FIVE

ALESSANDRO

The shock on Matteo's face when his eyes met mine was just exquisite.

His eyes widened in recognition before he froze at the doorway of the chapel.

It was satisfying to see the color drain from his cheeks underneath the soft lighting.

My gaze raked over him shamelessly.

There was that same lean body I had mapped with my mouth in a suit.

And I would recognise those luscious lips I had bruised with kisses anywhere.

He looked edible in that suit.

The thought of stripping it off him later, at home, made my blood to surge.

His lips parted and I heard his breath catch even from where I stood at the altar.

Perfect.

This was the exact reaction I had been expecting since the day began.

It was my own payback for what he had done to me that night, two weeks ago.

I could still remember every detail.

I could still feel the way his tight hole had clenched around my cock perfectly.

It had undoubtedly been as if he was made for my cock and my cock alone.

Every moan he had made was branded into my brain, belonging only to me.

The way he had felt in my arms, responsive and eager beneath me rushed back.

The sounds he had made when my cock had been ramming him from behind.

The taste of his skin when my tongue had traced every inch of him.

That night had been unlike any I had ever been opportuned to experience before.

The whole rendezvous had been consuming and intense in ways I hadn't anticipated.

And then I had woken up alone to a cold bed with his familiar warmth gone.

There had been no note, no phone number, nothing I could use to identify.

The only thing that remained was his faint scent and the memory of his body writhing beneath mine and I pounded him.

Rage had coiled in my belly.

He dare he run away?

Nobody walked away from me.

No one had dared to disappear from me without any form of consequences.

That same morning, I had made calls.

I was quick to hire the best investigators money could buy to find him.

It took them three days to find him.

Might have been less if I had found the patched letter on the floor earlier.

Matteo Leone.

Pretty boy had a pretty name.

He was twenty three years old.

There was nothing much on him, except his family and his hidden hobbies.

He was bisexual.

The folder contained rumors that suggested he was living under his father's thumb.

I couldn't fathom how any father could treat their own child like hazardous dirt.

So, I had searched for more.

When I had learnt of Vittorio Leone's failing company, my eyes had sparkled.

My golden opportunity had presented itself willingly on a silver platter.

One meeting with Vittorio was all it took.

I had approached him as an investor and laid out my proposal clearly.

Financial backing would be offered to him in exchange for marriage to his son.

Despite the rumors, the man had hesitated, claiming Matteo wasn't interested in men.

I had provided proof otherwise, discreet photos from the gay bar he visted.

The evidence was enough to make Vittorio understand exactly what his son had been doing the nights he went there.

The man had agreed within the hour.

The sound of the orchestra starting drew me back to the present.

All eyes turned toward the entrance where Matteo stood frozen beside his father.

Vittorio gripped his son's arm firmly, practically dragging him forward when Matteo's feet refused to move.

I straightened my navy suit jacket and clasped my hands in front of me.

The picture of a patient groom was what I aimed to paint while standing there.

But the satisfaction was burning hot and fierce deep down inside of me.

He would soon be mine.

Matteo Leone.

He was walking into my trap, and there was nothing he could do to escape it now.

His face was pale and he kept his eyes fixed on the floor, refusing to look at me.

His steps were mechanical as they made their way down the short aisle.

Each step brought him closer to where he belonged: at my side, in my bed, under me.

No more running.

No more disappearing.

From this moment, every inch of him woulf be mine to claim, to ruin, to keep.

Vittorio had a neutral and business like expression sitting on his face.

He looked as though he were delivering a package to me rather than his son.

Vittorio released Matteo's arm when they reached the altar and turned to me.

"Alessandro," he said with a nod.

"Vittorio."

I extended my hand.

We shook briefly, sealing it all with the fake smile I plastered on my face.

Then Vittorio stepped back and left his son standing alone with me afore the priest.

Finally, Matteo looked up.

The second our eyes locked, heat surged through me, raw and urgent.

Passion rushed through me like fire on dry grass doused in litres of gasoline.

That familiar heat sparked between us and body instantly recognized it.

My cock twitched in my pants at the unholy memory of sinking into him.

I was reminded of his ass gripping my dick like it never wanted to let go.

Soon I would have him again—deeper, harder, until he begged for my mercy.

I would take him after all of this, hard and fast till he was screaming my name.

I reached out and took his hand.

I squeezed just hard enough to remind him who held the utmost power now.

This hand, this body, this life standing before me—it was now mine.

I would mark him.

I would bruise him.

I would venerate every inch of him until he understood he could never escape.

His fingers trembled in my grip, but he didn't pull away, couldn't really.

At least not with his father watching.

Vittorio might have delivered him to me like unwanted cargo, but I knew the truth.

This wasn't a business deal anymore.

This was ownership for Matteo Leone was no longer his father's burden.

He was my possession now, bought and paid for in full with leverage and lust.

The priest cleared his throat beside us, quite ready to begin the ceremony.

I leaned closer to Matteo, close enough for only him to hear me when I spoke.

His breath hitched.

I chuckled.

Up close, I could clearly see the panic battling with confusion in his eyes.

The corners of my lips curved into a triumphant and satisfied smirk.

"We meet again, pretty boy."