Todos los capítulos de BURN FOR ME: MR. MATTEO'S DESIRE : Capítulo 51 - Capítulo 60

THIRD PERSON POVThe car ride was suffocatingly silent.Sophia sat rigid on the opposite side of the backseat, arms wrapped tightly around herself, tears still drying on her bruised cheeks. Her heart hammered so loudly she was sure Nikolai could hear it. She had thrown those cruel words at him. “fuck me and dump me like you always do…” expecting rage, expecting him to take what he wanted right there in the car.Instead, he had gone completely still.And then… nothing.Nikolai didn’t speak. He didn’t look at her. He simply stared out the window, jaw locked, his big body radiating tension that made the air feel thick and heavy. Every time she glanced at him, he looked unreadable, dangerous.The silence stretched in the car.Sophia couldn’t take it anymore. “Say something,” she whispered, voice cracking. “Yell at me. Threaten me. Just… don’t do this.”He didn’t even turn his head.The SUV finally slowed and turned into a quiet, upscale residential street. Sophia frowned as the car pulled

THIRD PERSON POVThe tension in Nikolai’s penthouse was thick enough to choke on.Matteo and Nikolai stood locked in a silent standoff near the floor-to-ceiling windows, Sophia worked frantically on Frederico’s wound, her hands steady despite the fear in her eyes. Arielle stayed beside her, handing over fresh gauze, but her attention kept drifting to the two brothers.“You’re in love with her, Matteo,” Nikolai said, voice low and cutting. “Don’t stand there and lecture me about innocent women when you did the exact same thing.”Matteo’s jaw clenched so hard it looked painful. “This isn’t the same.”“Isn’t it?” Nikolai shot back. “You took Arielle thinking she was Giselle and kept her anyway. Now you’re wrapped so tight around her you can’t see straight. At least I’m honest about what I want.”Before Matteo could reply, Arielle stood up, wiping blood from her hands on a towel.“Enough,” she said sharply, stepping between them. Both men turned to look at her. “Frederico is bleeding on t

THIRD PERSON POVGiselle made her way into the conference room, clad in a sleek black dress and sharp heels that clicked against the marble floor. She had received the text early that morning, a summon to the Russian tower. When she stepped inside, the air was thick with cigar smoke.It was obvious that they had been waiting for quiet sometime. “I received your message, Ivan,” she said, voice sharp as she got to the long table in the middle of the room. “To what do I owe this unexpected invite?”Arriele was not new to this game, she knew what men like Ivan wanted, and why they would go to any extent to get what they want.Ivan Volkov stood slowly from his chair at the head of the long table, his bandaged hand resting on the surface. The other men all clad in dark suits with cold, watchful expressions remained seated, silent observers to the unfolding scene.Ivan’s ice-blue eyes dragged over her slowly, a mix of amusement and calculation in his gaze. “You’ve been busy, Giselle, doin

ARIELLE’S POVIt's been a few days since the attack when we tried to get hold of Giselle. It was morning already, I sat staring at the ceiling, my body was deliciously sore in all the right places. Heat rushed to my cheeks as memories from last night flooded back. God.What was I even thinking? One minute I hate my husband, the next I'm letting him touch me in ways that make me crave for more. To be close to him like that. Matteo had been insatiable.He’d taken me against the kitchen counter first, then carried me to the bedroom like I weighed nothing. His hands had been everywhere rough, possessive, claiming. I could still feel the ghost of his fingers digging into my hips, the way he’d growled my name against my neck as he drove deep inside me. “Mine,” he’d rasped between thrusts. “Only fucking mine.”I pressed my thighs together, a fresh wave of warmth spreading through me. God, the man was dangerous. Even when he wasn’t here, he still had power over my body. I buried my face i

MATTEO’S POVI left the penthouse before sunrise, kissing Arielle’s forehead while she was still half-asleep and warm in my bed. The taste of last night still lingered on my tongue, her moans, her nails digging into my back, the way she whispered my name like a prayer and a curse at the same time.But business waited for no one.Xavier was already waiting in the underground garage with two of my best men. We drove in silence to one of our secure warehouses on the east side. The moment we stepped inside the dimly lit room, he handed me a thick folder.“You’re not going to like this,” he said flatly.I opened it.The first photo hit me like a punch to the gut.A woman. Late twenties in the picture. Dark hair, striking eyes, full lips. She looked so much like Arielle it was fucking disturbing. Same sharp cheekbones. Same fire in the gaze.“Who the hell is she?” I growled.Xavier crossed his arms. “We think she’s Arielle’s biological mother. Her name's Isabella Vargas. She wasn’t just som