Matteo's Fury

The Ricci estate was in complete chaos.

Luca Corsini stood in the center of the grand drawing room, his suit disheveled, his patience gone. The room was tense, filled with members of the Ricci family, their whispers buzzing like angry wasps.

But Luca didn't care.

His jaw was locked, his hands clenched at his sides.

Alessandra was missing.

And Matteo Corsini had taken her.

"Where is she?" he demanded, his voice slicing through the room like a blade.

Silence.

The head of the Ricci family, Leonardo Ricci, sat in his grand leather chair, his face a picture of cold calculation. At nearly eighty, the patriarch was a relic of a different time—a man who had ruled his empire with an iron fist and a mind sharper than any knife.

His silvered hair was combed neatly back, his dark eyes unreadable.

Luca had never once seen the man look flustered. Not even now, when his own granddaughter had disappeared.

"She will be found," Leonardo said finally, his voice as smooth as aged whiskey.

Luca's hands twitched. "And when she is?"

Leonardo Ricci exhaled slowly, tapping his cane against the floor. "She will be married."

Luca's head snapped up.

The Ricci matriarchs—Alessandra's aunts, her mother, even her father—nodded in agreement.

"She embarrassed us," her father, Emilio Ricci, said coldly. "Running off with her brother in-law . We should have controlled her better."

Luca gritted his teeth. He had known this would happen. The Riccis didn't tolerate rebellion, not even from their own blood.

"When she is found," Leonardo said, his tone leaving no room for argument, "she will be wed. Immediately."

Luca inhaled sharply.

Finally.

Finally, Alessandra would be his.

But then—

"What about Matteo?" one of the Ricci elders asked. "He has her."

Luca's jaw clenched.

Matteo Corsini. The bastard who had stolen her from under his nose.

Leonardo's expression didn't change. "Matteo will not interfere."

Luca barked out a harsh laugh. "We both know that wouldn't happen ."

Leonardo's lips curled faintly. "Am I?"

Luca froze.

Because there was something in his tone. Something—calm.

Luca had spent the last twenty-four hours tearing through the city looking for Alessandra, demanding answers, interrogating men who had no idea where she had gone.

But Leonardo Ricci was not concerned.

Why?

Realization crept up Luca's spine, cold and sharp.

The old man knew.

He knew where Alessandra was.

His fingers curled into fists. "Where is she?"

Leonardo Ricci leaned back, amusement flashing in his dark eyes.

"I am not concerned with where she is," the old man murmured. "I am only concerned with who is worthy of her."

Luca's stomach twisted.

Because for all the control he thought he had, for all the power he wielded—

Leonardo Ricci had already made his choice.

And that choice was who deserved Alessandra the best.

---

Meanwhile, across the city—

Matteo leaned back against his chair, watching Alessandra pack.

She moved with quiet precision, folding her clothes into her suitcase, her brows furrowed in thought.

"You're tense," Matteo murmured.

Alessandra didn't look at him. "Because my family is hunting me."

His lips twitched. "And yet, here you are, packing for Volgaria instead of running back to them."

She hesitated.

Matteo smirked. "Interesting."

She turned then, her dark eyes narrowed. "Shut up."

He chuckled. "Admit it, dolcezza. You belong to me now."

Alessandra's throat bobbed.

Matteo tilted his head, watching her carefully.

He saw it.

The moment she accepted it.

The moment she knew she would never go back to Luca.

Not willingly.

Not ever.

Matteo smirked, pushing off the chair.

"Come," he murmured, brushing past her. "Let's go before someone tries to steal you away from me again."

She rolled her eyes, but he saw the small smile playing on her lips.

And it was enough.

---

Luca Corsini got the call the moment Alessandra left the country.

He was pacing in his penthouse, his shirt rumpled, his jaw locked, when his phone buzzed.

He snatched it up. "Speak."

"She's heading to Volgaria."

Luca froze.

Then—

A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face.

"Perfect."

Matteo thought he had won.

But this wasn't over.

Not even close.