Page 17 of Wicked Bloodlines

When his eyes met mine, I felt a chill. Not because he intimidated me but because I recognized something familiar in his calculated detachment. He wasn’t here for this petty confrontation. He wanted information, and this argument provided perfect cover.

His gaze shifted to Matteo beside me, then to the doorway behind us, then back to Dario. He checked his watch. Was he timing something? Waiting for someone? The precision in his movements triggered every instinct I’d developed in my father’s shadow.

I slid my hand onto Matteo’s thigh beneath the table, my fingers finding his. A gentle squeeze, but enough to signal him. Matteo didn’t turn his head, didn’t acknowledge the touch outwardly, but I felt the imperceptible tensing of his muscles.

He dropped his hand to my fingers and squeezed once before letting go. The silent communication felt strangely intimate, more so than our heated encounter in the private room. We’d found a language without words, and the realization sent an unexpected wave of warmth through me.

“Your brother needs to publicly retract his statements,” Vincent demanded, drawing my attention back to the primary confrontation. “My reputation—”

“Your reputation,” Dario interrupted, “remains intact despite Gabriel’s comments. Making this into a bigger issue only draws more attention to your concerns. Is that what you want, Vincent? More scrutiny of your shipping operations?”

The implied threat hung in the air. Vincent’s face flushed deeper, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple.

“This isn’t in your best interest, Dario,” he growled, pushing back from the table with enough force to send his chair skidding backward.

“It is for tonight,” Dario replied with finality. He hadn’t raised his voice once. He didn’t need to. The power differential in the room was apparent to everyone.

Anthony rose more gracefully than his brother, buttoning his jacket unhurriedly. His eyes swept the room once more before landing on me. A slight nod of acknowledgment. I didn’t like his attention at all.

“If you’ll excuse us,” Anthony said, his voice controlled where Vincent’s had been explosive.

Vincent stormed toward the door, nearly colliding with Marcus, who didn’t budge an inch. Anthony followed at a more measured pace, placing a guiding hand on his brother’s shoulder that seemed both restraining and supportive. Marcus shut the door, closing everyone out but family.

“Well,” Gabriel broke the silence, “that was fun.”

Dario shot him a look that would have withered a lesser man. “Was it necessary to antagonize him in public?”

Gabriel shrugged, unrepentant. “He’s been poaching our smaller contractors. Someone needed to remind him who holds the real power in this city. So, to answer your question, no. It wasn’t necessary. But it was a fuck load of fun.”

Matteo turned his hand beneath mine, his fingers interlacing with my own. A small gesture, hidden from the others by the table, but it sent electricity up my arm and grounded me better than anything in my life ever had.

“The timing was poor,” Dario said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “With the wedding approaching, we need stability, not conflict.”

“Anthony wasn’t here for the argument,” Matteo stated flatly, speaking for the first time since we’d entered. “He was looking for something else.”

Dario’s gaze sharpened. “Explain.”

“Sofia noticed it first,” Matteo said, giving my hand a slight squeeze beneath the table. “He was watching. Timing something.”

All eyes turned to me. I fought the urge to shrink under their collective stare, instead straightening my spine the way I had under my father’s scrutiny hundreds of times before.

“He checked his watch twice,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “And his attention pattern wasn’t random. He was systematically scanning the room and each of you. Me. Looking for something specific.”

Dario studied me with new interest, his earlier assessment clearly being recalculated. “What do you think he was looking for?”

“No clue,” I admitted. “But whatever Vincent came here to do, either Anthony came with a different agenda, or Vincent provided the reason to get them all in here.” I shrugged. “No doubt you know them better than me.” For the first time since this arrangement began, I felt like me and Matteo were truly on the same side.

“Sofia.” Dante’s voice was gentle and he wore a ghost of a smile. “You’re a valuable addition to our family.” He turned his gaze pointedly to Matteo. “The two of you work well together.” The compliment caught me off guard. Gabriel winked at me but said nothing.

After that, we headed home. The ride back to Villa Luca happened in silence. Matteo sat beside me in the back of the car. He didn’t touch me, but his presence felt electric inside the vehicle. The night’s events had wound us both tight.

Matteo’s knuckles whitened as he clenched his fist on the seat between us. Whatever game we’d been playing had shifted into something far more dangerous, I had no hope of winning. Raw, undeniable want threatened to overwhelm me.

The car hadn’t fully stopped in the circular drive before Matteo was out his door, circling around to yank mine open. He gripped my elbow, not roughly but with unmistakable intent, guiding me through the grand entrance and up the stairs without a word to the staff who melted away at our approach.

We reached our suite and, once inside, he snagged my hand and practically dragged me to his bedroom. He barely got the door closed before I pulled my hand from his grasp and spun to face him. For one heartbeat, we stared at each other, a final moment of restraint before the dam broke.

We moved at the same time. His mouth met mine in a kiss that probably looked more like an assault than affection. Shoved his jacket from his shoulders then clawed at his shirt. Buttons went flying across the floor as I ripped the fabric apart to reach skin. He grunted his approval against my lips, his touch equally as destructive to my dress until he managed to hike it up around my waist.