Chapter 14

Matteo’s POV

She stood there, wet and shaking, her camisole molded to every curve, her lips parted slightly, eyes locked on mine like she was daring me to say the one thing I shouldn’t.

And maybe I already had.

I’d pulled her out of the pool with my heart in my throat, driven by fury and panic, the kind I hadn’t felt since I was a boy watching my world fall apart without being able to stop it.

But the moment we got inside, everything changed.

Now it was just her.

Just Sarah.

And the terrifying realization that I couldn’t keep pretending she was just another assistant.

I helped her out of her soaked top, my hands careful, deliberate but every inch of exposed skin ignited something deeper, something darker. My fingers itched to trace the line of her spine, to rest on her waist and hold her there, still, close, mine.

“Say something,” I’d said.

She didn’t flinch.

She didn’t move.

“Why do you keep doing this?” she whispered. “Looking at me like I’m everything you want and then pretending I’m not?”

I could’ve lied.

Should’ve.

But the truth was already rising in my throat like smoke I couldn’t swallow.

“Because if I start… I won’t stop.”

And then I kissed her.

God help me, I kissed her like I was already drowning again but this time, I didn’t want air.

Her mouth opened under mine without hesitation, warm and soft and full of something I hadn’t let myself believe I’d find with her. My hand slid to her hip, then her lower back, pulling her against me, pressing her curves into the wet fabric of my shirt.

She gasped softly into my mouth, fingers curling into the collar at my neck, tugging like she didn’t know whether to push me away or pull me closer.

I didn’t give her the choice.

I deepened the kiss, tasting the fear, the frustration, the weeks of tension and unsaid words we’d both tried so hard to bury.

It wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t careful.

But it was honest.

And it was hers.

Her hands moved up my chest, across my shoulders, gripping me like she needed something to hold onto or she’d fall apart. She kissed me back like she was angry I’d waited this long, like she’d needed this as badly as I did.

I broke away just long enough to press my forehead to hers.

Her breathing was ragged.

So was mine.

I looked down at her lips swollen, eyes dazed, chest rising and falling fast, and felt something in my chest tighten in a way I didn’t have a name for.

“I don’t know what this is,” she whispered.

“Neither do I,” I said honestly.

Her brows drew together, unsure. “Then why are we doing this?”

I paused, searching for the answer I didn’t want to admit.

“Because I can’t stop wanting you,” I said. “Even when I know I should.”

Silence stretched between us, heavy, fragile, full of all the reasons this was a terrible idea.

But she didn’t move.

Neither did I.

I kissed her again.

Slower this time.

Softer.

Letting her taste the truth behind the fire.

She moaned softly into my mouth, her body melting against mine, and I knew if she said the word, I’d carry her to my bed, and no force on earth could stop me.

But she didn’t say the word.

She just kissed me like she needed to forget the world.

And for a moment, I let her.

Her body fit against mine like she’d always belonged there.

Every breath she took was ragged and soft, brushing my cheek with a kind of heat that sank into my skin and stayed there.

My fingers slid up her spine, slow, reverent, as if touching her too fast would ruin it would break the fragile, aching thing blooming between us.

I kissed her again.

Slower this time.

Less fire. More gravity.

She sighed into my mouth, hands moving to the buttons of my wet shirt, trembling just slightly as she slipped each one free. I watched her eyes, her lips parted, her pulse fluttering against her throat like she was trying to be brave.

I didn’t stop her.

Her palms moved across my chest, bare now, wet fabric falling to the tile floor behind me. Her fingertips traced the scars near my shoulder the one from when I was seventeen and reckless, the one no woman had ever asked about.

But she didn’t ask.

She just touched it.

And somehow, that was worse. Deeper. Realer.

“Matteo,” she breathed, voice low, uncertain.

I touched her cheek. “We don’t have to.”

“I want to,” she said. “I just… don’t know what happens after.”

I stared at her.

“I don’t either.”

But I couldn’t stop.

Not now.

Not with her body warm and willing against mine, not with her lips tasting like something I’d starved for.

I kissed her again, this time backing her gently into the wall, one hand threading through her hair, the other resting on her waist. She arched against me, her thigh brushing mine, and the sound she made the breathy hitch of want undid something in me.

We were wet, barefoot, tangled in something too messy to name.

But it was real.

And when her mouth met mine again, open and needy, I knew I was already gone.

I lifted her easily, instinctively and she wrapped her legs around my waist, her hands tangled in my hair, her kiss growing deeper, wetter, more desperate.

I carried her out of the bathroom, into the shadows of my apartment, the city lights behind the windows casting her in gold and moonlight.

I laid her down gently, her hair fanned across the pillow like ink spilled across silk.

She looked up at me bare, open, and unbelievably beautiful.

And I looked back.

Because for once, I didn’t want to close my eyes.

I wanted to see her.

All of her.

Every breath. Every sound. Every unguarded moment made this more than lust.

More than want.

It was everything I’d been afraid to admit I needed.

And when I finally leaned in again her skin warm beneath my hands, her mouth meeting mine with no hesitation I stopped thinking.

And let everything else fade.

**

Her skin was still warm under my hands, her body tangled with mine like she belonged there.

For a brief, fragile second, the world outside didn’t exist no boardrooms, no press, no rivals, no lies.

Just her.

Just us.

Then the phone rang.

Sharp.

Invasive.

Relentless.

I didn’t want to move.

Didn’t want to open that door again.

But something in the back of my head the part that always expected disaster told me not to ignore it.

I reached for the device on the nightstand.

Isabelle.

Of course.

I almost didn’t answer.

Almost.

But I did.

“Matteo,” her voice purred, syrupy and soaked in venom. “I thought we should talk before this gets… messy.”

I sat up slightly, careful not to look at Sarah.

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice sharp.

“You kicked me out,” she said coolly. “Embarrassed me in front of your staff, your friend, and your little pet project.”

I gritted my teeth. “You pushed her into a pool.”

“And yet,” she snapped, “she’s the one in your bed. Not me.”

Silence.

Then the poison came.

“You’ve forgotten who you are,” she said, voice dropping. “You forget who helped bury the bodies to get you where you are.”

My heart clenched.

She wasn’t wrong.

And that was the problem.

“I’m not afraid of you, Isabelle.”

“No?” she said sweetly. “Let’s see how your investors feel when they find out who you’ve been sleeping with. Your assistant. The same woman Damian cross been sniffing around.”

I closed my eyes.

And that’s when I felt shame. Not because of Sarah. But because part of me had always known this would happen. The moment I let her in… I’d have to push her out.

“I want you out of my life, Isabelle,” I said coldly.

She laughed once, hollow and cruel. “You’re not that lucky.”

The call ended.

And the damage was done.

I turned to find Sarah sitting up, wrapped in the sheet, watching me with a mix of fear and confusion.

“Who was that?” she asked softly.

I stood.

Didn’t answer.

Just started pulling on my shirt like I could armor myself again, like undoing the moment would undo what I’d felt.

She blinked. “Matteo?”

“Get dressed,” I said, avoiding her gaze. “And get out of my room.”

Her mouth parted. “What?”

“You heard me.”

The hurt in her face was instant.

Like a slap.

“But… I thought”

“You thought wrong,” I said sharply, needing distance. Needing to shove her away before Isabelle’s words became prophecy.

“You don’t belong here, Sarah. You never did.”

Silence.

Then.

“I hate you,” she whispered.

Not loud.

But deep.

Real.

“I hate you in a way I didn’t think I could hate someone I once” she stopped herself, swallowing whatever came next.

Then she stood.

And walked out.

And just like that, the only thing that had ever made me feel whole again was gone.

The door closed behind her with a soft click, but it echoed like a gunshot in my chest.

I stood there in silence, shirt half-buttoned, fists clenched, the taste of her kiss still on my lips and the sting of her words still in my bones.

“I hate you in a way I didn’t think I could…”

She didn’t have to finish the sentence.

I already knew what came next.

And it gutted me.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the sheets she’d just been wrapped in now empty, cold, and meaningless without her.

I’d destroyed it.

All of it.

Because I was too much of a coward to choose her over the empire I’d spent years building.

But what was the point of owning the whole world…

…if the only thing I wanted had just walked away from me?