Page 16 of Brutal Revenge
Instead, there’s a long stretch of tarmac shimmering in the low-hanging afternoon sun and a sleek white jet waiting at the end like a secret someone poorly tried to hide.
My stomach drops when I realize the jet is idling.
I aim to keep my voice calm and miserably fail. “Why are we here?”
Matteo doesn’t answer me. He exits the SUV, walks around to my side, and opens the door. The driver removes my suitcase from the back seat and wheels it toward the private jet.
With an unreadable expression, Matteo offers to assist me out of the limousine. It’s not cold or cruel, more detached.
I don’t move. “Tell me why first.”
He doesn’t enjoy being barked at, but he’s a pro at masking his expressions. “This is a way out.”
“Out of what?”
“Out of this.” The simplicity of his reply hits me harder than any explanation he could have given. “Out of us.”
Reaching into the SUV, he snatches up my hand and drags me out. His demeanor is brutish but also businesslike, implying that he’s trying to wedge a barrier between us that didn’t exist an hour ago.
As he guides me across the tarmac, a cool wind blows over the airstrip. It messes up my hair and headpiece more ruefully than his fingers did, and briefly, I feel small against the vastness of the sky and the coldness in Matteo’s eyes when he hands me over to the flight crew.
“Take her anywhere she wants to go,” Matteo says to the pilot waiting beside the jet’s stairs.
The pilot respectfully dips his chin. “Yes,signor.”
Anywhere could lead me straight back into Antonio’s arms, but Matteo’s unruffled appearance makes me wonder if he knows that isn’t a possibility. I had already packed my suitcase for a reason. Antonio hadn’t been marching me into his father’s office to solely authenticate my claim that the Adami compound was being graced with Cosa Nostra royalty. It was to remind his father of his decision for us to no longer wed.
Matteo was right.
Antonio only wants what he can’t have.
That’s why we need to continue with our ruse. If Antonio’s reaction to our kiss is anything to go by, his jealousy will snowball in less than a week, and we will wed just as fast.
The reminder pushes my desperation to fever pitch.
“I don’t want to go.” I step closer to Matteo, my voice rising with an urgency I can’t hide. “I’m not leaving Sicily. This wasnotour agreement.”
“The only thing I bartered for this afternoon was for you to suck my dick, sweetheart. You’ve done that, so now it’s time for you to go.” His glare is mocking, nothing like the one he gave me when he wasready to devour me. “Unless you’re desperate for another mouthful of my cum. You’ve got a long way to go before knowing how to please a man, but I can be generous with my time when it’s for the right cause.”
With a narrowed glare, I cut off the snickers of the men surrounding us before I return some of the lip Matteo’s giving me. “Go fuck yourself,gerizekali.I’d rather eat my own liver than get on my knees for you.”
His jaw twitches, but its spasms don’t keep his mouth shut. “Again. You won’t get on your knees for meagain.”
After giving him the universal sign to fuck off, I sidestep him and hobble back to the SUV, my pride too wounded not to wobble. My unstable strides havenothingto do with the lust still roaring through my veins.
Yeah, right.If you believe that, you probably think Antonio will welcome me back with open arms.
His jealousy may be high enough to allow me to enter the grounds of the Adami residence, but it’ll take more than flushed cheeks for him to continue with the arrangement his father initiated behind his back.
My steps slacken. Without Matteo’s help, there’s only one route I can take.
I’ll have to butter up Don Adami.
He has a soft spot for anyone under twenty-three.Regretfully.
“Where are you going,micina?” Matteo asks.
I keep walking. “I have a wedding to plan.”
