Chapter Four — Bitter sweet medicine.

Alexandria POV.

The pill sat cold on my tongue as I lifted the glass of water with a trembling hand. Matteo’s eyes burned into me, unblinking, demanding obedience.

 I swallowed it down just as Giulia stepped fully into the doorway, her silk robe whispering against the frame.

She saw everything.

Her sharp brown eyes flicked from the empty glass in my hand to Matteo’s commanding stance, then back to me. For a fraction of a second, her perfect composure cracked—just enough for me to catch the flicker of pained recognition.

“Matteo,” she said softly, her voice fragile but steady.

 “Why is she taking pills?”

He didn’t even glance at her at first. His gaze still stayed on me, making sure I’d obeyed. Only when he was satisfied did he turn slightly toward his wife.

“It’s for her health,” he replied calmly, as if discussing the weather.

 “She was feeling faint earlier. I don’t want to lose her in my house.”

The words hung in the air like smoke. Giulia’s lips pressed into a thin line. She knew. It was written all over her face—the slight tightening around her eyes, the way her fingers gripped the doorframe just a little too hard.

 This wasn’t the first time. Not the first girl he’d dragged home, not the first time he’d fed some poor woman pills in the middle of the night to “take care of her.”

 The resignation in her posture told me she’d survived this dance before. Maybe many times.

She didn’t argue. I can tell she never did.

“I see,” Giulia murmured, lowering her gaze.

 The lights flickered again, stronger this time, casting long shadows across all three of us.

 “Security is waiting for you downstairs.”

Matteo gave a curt nod and finally stepped away from me. As he passed his wife, he brushed a hand lightly against her arm but it was more of a warning than affection.

Then he was gone, disappearing down the hallway like a predator returning to the hunt.

Giulia lingered for one heartbeat longer.

She looked at me and in her eyes I saw something complicated, pity, jealousy, exhaustion.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, then thought better of it. Without another word, she turned and followed her husband.

I was left alone in the east room, the pill settling heavy in my stomach.

The next morning came too soon.

I woke to the sound of movement in the penthouse—doors opening, low voices, the click of expensive heels. I hadn’t slept much.

 My body still ached from the night before, bruises blooming on my hips and thighs like dark fingerprints. I dressed quickly in clothes from the wardrobe.

 a simple black blouse and trousers that fit too well, as if someone had measured me in my sleep.

When I stepped into the hallway, I saw Giulia at the entrance. She looked flawlessly beautiful—cream-colored coat, hair pinned elegantly, diamonds glinting at her ears.

 A small army of security men in dark suits surrounded her. At least eight of them, all armed and alert.

She had paused near the medical ward entrance. Matteo was there, half-reclined on the examination bed, the family doctor attending to him.

He looked paler than usual, sleeves rolled up, a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. He really didn’t look well.

Giulia leaned down and pressed a soft peck to his chin, her hand lingering on his chest.

“Get well before I’m back, darling,” she said quietly.

“I will try,” Matteo replied, his voice rough but controlled.

As she straightened, her eyes found me standing further down the passage. The look she gave me was pure suspicion—narrowed, searching, almost accusatory.

 Like she knew exactly what kind of “health” her husband was planning to attend to once she left.

She held my gaze for a long, uncomfortable second before turning away and stepping into the private elevator with her guards. The doors closed with a soft chime, and she was gone.

The penthouse felt different without her.

 Emptier. More dangerous.

A few minutes later, the doctor packed up his bag and left the ward, nodding respectfully to Matteo on his way out. The heavy door clicked shut behind him.

Then I heard his voice, low, commanding, echoing slightly down the corridor.

“Alexandria. Come here.”

My heart stuttered. I hesitated only a moment before walking toward the medical ward. The room was sleek and clinical.

It has white walls, monitors beeping softly, the wide hospital-style bed where Matteo now sat propped against pillows.

His shirt was opened at the top, revealing the hard lines of his chest.

“Bring the couch closer,” he ordered, nodding toward the sleek leather sofa against the far wall.

“Beside the bed.”

I moved without thinking, dragging the heavy piece of furniture until it was right next to him. My arms burned from the effort.

“Sit.”

I sat.

He studied me with those dark, intense eyes.

 “Swing your legs open for me.”

I froze, confusion flooding through me.

 “si..r ..What?”

“You heard me.”

Some part of my body—traitorous and shameful—responded immediately. Heat pooled low in my belly at the roughness in his voice.

The memory of last night, of how brutally he’d taken me, made my thighs press together instinctively. But another part, the rational one, screamed that this man was dangerous, married, and clearly unwell.

I slowly parted my legs, feet still on the floor, feeling exposed even though I was fully dressed. My cheeks burned.

“But I thought you aren’t healthy, sir,”

 I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Matteo’s expression darkened. In one swift movement, he sat up straighter despite whatever illness or injury plagued him. His hand shot out, grabbing my knee and yanking it wider.

“Take my fingers now,” he snarled, voice raw and commanding.

Matteo was going to ruin me right here in his medical ward, one commanding stroke at a time.

His fingers paused at my entrance, pressing firmly against the damp fabric of my panties. He pulled them back slightly, holding two thick digits right in front of my face.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered, voice dark and unyielding.

I stared at him, heart hammering. Part of me still wanted to resist, to push back against this humiliating control, but the heat pooling between my thighs betrayed me.

My lips parted obediently. He slid the two fingers past them, resting them heavy on my tongue.

“Suck.”

I closed my mouth around them, tasting the faint salt of his skin. My tongue moved slowly at first, swirling around the digits as I sucked gently.

Then harder, hollowing my cheeks like he wanted, coating every inch with warm saliva. The wet, obscene sounds filled the small medical ward.

My face burned with shame, but I didn’t stop. I sucked deeper, eyes fluttering half-closed as his gaze burned into me.

Matteo watched with dark satisfaction, his breathing heavier now.

“That’s it. Get them dripping wet for your cunt.”

When he finally pulled his fingers free, they glistened with my spit, a thin string briefly connecting them to my swollen lower lip.

He didn’t give me time to catch my breath.

“Now put them inside your pussy,”

he commanded.

“Fuck yourself on them. Deep.”

My hands trembled as I reached down. I shoved my trousers and panties lower on my hips, exposing myself completely to his hungry stare.

Taking his slick fingers, I guided them between my thighs. The moment the wet tips touched my folds, I gasped.

 I was embarrassingly soaked already.

I pushed them inside myself slowly, feeling the stretch. A broken moan slipped out as I sank them deeper, curling them the way he had done the night before.

“Harder,” he growled. “Ride them like you need it.”

I obeyed, rocking my hips forward, fucking myself on his fingers right there on the couch beside his bed. My walls clenched around the intrusion, the wet sounds growing louder with every thrust.

Pleasure built fast and sharp, my clit throbbing as the heel of my palm brushed against it. My legs shook, spread wide for him, completely exposed while the monitors beeped steadily beside us.

Matteo’s eyes never left the sight of his fingers disappearing inside me. He looked almost feverish now, the earlier pretense of illness burning away in raw lust.

The sharp sound of an alarm suddenly cut through the room. One of the monitors started flashing red. His private phone, left on the side table, began vibrating violently.

Matteo cursed under his breath, but his fingers didn’t leave my body. Instead, he pushed them deeper as I continued moving on them, forcing me to keep fucking myself even as danger intruded.

“Boss,” a voice crackled urgently through the intercom.

“We have a situation in the garage. Unidentified vehicle. They’re armed.”

His jaw clenched in frustration, but his hand stayed between my legs, controlling the rhythm now — thrusting his fingers harder while I tried to keep pace.

 I bit my lip bloody to hold back a loud moan, my hips jerking involuntarily.

“Stay exactly like this,” he growled, eyes locked on mine.

“Don’t you dare close your legs. I’m not finished with you.”

I could see his bulge now.pointed, big and hard looking.

He reached for the phone with his free hand, answering the call while his fingers continued their torturous work, curling and pumping deep inside me, his thumb now pressing firm circles on my clit.

“Yes,” he said coldly into the phone, his voice completely controlled even as he drove his fingers harder, making my back arch off the couch.

 “Handle it. I’m busy.”

I was trembling, desperately riding his hand while he spoke to his men like nothing was happening.

 The danger outside only seemed to heighten everything — the risk of someone walking in, the threat in the garage, Giulia’s suspicious eyes from earlier. None of it mattered.

Matteo was using me, owning me, right here with the world potentially crashing down around us. And the worst part was how badly my body craved every second of it.

He hung up the phone abruptly and tossed it aside, his free hand grabbing my jaw to force me to look at him.

“Faster,” he snarled. “Make yourself come on my fingers like the desperate little slut you are. Now.”

My hips moved frantically, chasing the edge he was pushing me toward. The coil in my belly tightened violently as his fingers hit that perfect spot again and again.

I was so close — right on the brink — when another, louder alarm blared through the penthouse.

This time, it wasn’t just the medical monitors.

It was the building-wide security system.