Page 168 of Vicious Intentions
How many times has he watched those videos?
Whatever anger I had before stepping into this room is long gone now, replaced by something I don’t dare name.
“Matteo,” I whisper, setting the tablet down to the side and placing my hand gently against his back. He stiffens under my touch, and a part of me breaks. “Look at me… please.”
It takes him a second before he turns to face me. My heart clenches at the sight of him. Deep shadows hollow the skin beneath his eyes, his face drawn and tired, looking like he hasn’t slept in days. He looks… worn, and I hate that I was the one who caused it.
“Is there something you need?” Matteo asks, his tone clipped and unfeeling.
I hate it. I hate everything about it.
“I just wanted—” I start, taking a step closer to him, only for him to back away.
The movement is small, but it hits like a blow.
So this is what it feels like for a heart to break.
I draw in a steady breath, forcing myself to hold his gaze, refusing to show how much that small action shattered me.
“I wanted to apologize.”
“For what?”
“For kissing you. I shouldn’t have done that while you were asleep.” Matteo’s expression hardens.
“You think that’s why I’m upset?” he says. “You think I’m pissed that my wife took advantage of me?” He lets out a short, humorless breath. “I’m your husband, Anna. If that word meant anything to you, then you would have known that I’d be more than happy to have my wife take advantage of me anytime she wanted.”
“Not asking for consent is the only thing I have to apologize for,” I counter.
“Really?” he quips, taking a step closer. “So getting drunk just to kiss me is perfectly acceptable behavior to you?”
“I’m a grown woman, Matteo. If I’m old enough to marry the boss of theCosa Nostra, then I’m old enough to have a drink if I want one.”
Matteo’s lips press together, and a traitorous thrill stirs inside me when he closes the remaining distance between us. So much so that I have to tilt my head back just to hold his cold gaze.
“And what about my brother?”
“What about him?” His eyes narrow.
“Was he who influenced your decision to kiss me that night? Did your little talk push you into it? Or did he leave you so worked up that I was your only option?”
Heat crawls up my neck at his callous words, their only purpose to wound. I don’t take the bait, though. I go for the truth instead. If only this once.
“Rafe had no bearing on my decision. He wasn’t even on my mind at the time. I wanted to kiss you, and I acted on it. That’s all.” His brows pull together in confusion, the hard line of his mouth easing.
“You…wantedto kiss me?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Then why do you sound angry about it?”
“Because… because…” I try to find a lie and fail. “Because you jumped to conclusions and then left me. Youleftme, Matteo.” His Adam’s apple bobs as his eyes search mine.
“I thought that would be best,” he says quietly. “I thought maybe you’d prefer it that way.”
“Well, I don’t,” I admit, my voice just as low.
“So where does that leave us?”
