Dematteis Novels & Stories

Alpha Edward demanded. “Amanda isn’t my mate, and we never had sex,” Beta Matthew revealed, and a gulp passed down my throat.

a husky voice rumbled from behind me. My breath hitched. Don Matteo stood there, a dark silhouette against the faint hallway light. His eyes, the color of storm clouds, narrowed. "M..mr. Russo." His eyes dropped to the shattered glass on the floor. He chuckled darkly. "Eavesdropping I see." "I.. didn't...I wasn't..." I stepped back as he took predatory steps towards me, till my back was against the wall. I gulped when he leaned in. "What did I say about not getting too curious?" His breath tickled my neck, a sardonic smile played on his lips.

I see a girl with nothing left to lose, and that’s more dangerous than anything. Matteo leans back in his chair, an easy, amused grin tugging at his lips as he picks up his phone. The moment his fingers dial the number, I already know who he’s calling. There’s only one man outside of Dante who would have Matteo showing even a sliver of respect, the only one person who could make a difference in this situation—Dmitri Mikhailov, the Russian Crown, the most powerful Bratva boss in the States. The fact that Matteo even has his number is enough to make me tense, but the fact that he’s about to use it? That’s something else entirely.

Matthew muttered. Continuation Request

Dante said, as I kept my eyes on the phone, my heart racing against my ribcage as I tried processing what he was saying. “Why?” I asked, frowning in confusion “regardless whatever it is, why would he be doing such a thing?” “I’m not sure, we’re yet to find anything about him” Dante said, looking at me, studying my expression as I handed him the phone. He took it from me and scrolling through it again, he handed me the device and I frowned when I saw the picture of Giovanni’s car, and Mattia standing in what looked like the inside of his parking, his back to the car as he smoked a cigarette “he’s an Alpha, Alpha Nicolas to be more specific, and I don’t know why, but I have reason to believe

In a voice of steel, she said, “Tell me about your beautiful mate, or there will be no passage into Hell.” My nostrils flared, and I tried to swallow back the bitter taste of defeat. Griff had described me as proud, which hadn’t been inaccurate, but I wasn’t going to let my principles get in the way of saving the Hellfire pack and retrieving the lost soul crystals. “Where do you want me to start?” I asked, my words clipped. “We’ll skip over the courtship.” Demeter waved a hand as though the important part of our relationship was of no interest. “Tell me what he’s like in bed.” “It was over forty years ago,” I said from between clenched teeth.

-THIRD PERSON’S POV- Seff abruptly changed his position in the chair to sit forward with his white eyebrows drawn together. “Money cannot be fake.” Dymian focused his gaze on Jarvaldo. A vein ticked in his jaws as his rigid stare admonished for elaboration. “Actually, boss, it sure can,” Jarvaldo insisted. Seff choked raucously on the communion bread. He shook his head, trying to get out. “No. Not true.”

“Aren't you going to introduce yourself to them?" The former prime minister says as he looks directly at me. There wasn't a long pause; there was barely a pause; he just wanted my attention. "I'll trust my partner to do it better.” The former prime minister frowns at my response; I am not falling for his goading. Matteo narrows his eyes as if placing two and two together before I feel his hand on my lower back. "I'm Matteo D'Amico, and this is my woman, Olivia Lawson, the new head of Lawson &. I."

One of his companions scoffed and mumbled under his breath something we could not hear. “Firstly, my name is Ezra, not Omega. Secondly, it is none of your concern how I am. You clearly have not cared at all over the last few months how I am doing so why start now. I would like to ask you for a rejection so I can either die or move on with my life. If you will not give me one then I will wait until I can feel the mate pull and reject you myself.”

Another huff with a roll of his eyes and he squatted down in front of me, setting the other bottle down and twisting the top from the Powerade. “Drink this, or I’ll make you drink it.” I stared at the bottle, unable to respond. For some reason I couldn’t shake it off. I’d been stupid to think that my fate was so far from Elio’s. Ella Delgado was a nobody who wouldn’t be missed if she were killed or sold as a sex slave. Fire burned my skin, and I drew in a hissing breath of surprise. Domenico’s hand rested on my neck, thumb moving across my jaw, tilting my head back.