Matteo's Threat

Chapter 26: Matteo's Threat

The room was dimly lit, bathed in the golden glow of the bedside lamp. Isla sat on the edge of the bed, heart hammering as she tried to process everything. She had almost escaped, almost gotten away from Dante.

But instead, she was here.

Locked inside his world.

And worse—she was beginning to crave the chains that bound her to him.

The door creaked open, and her breath caught.

Dante.

His presence filled the room, thick with dominance. His dark eyes roamed over her, his expression unreadable. But Isla knew the storm brewing behind that gaze.

"Did you really think you could leave me, dolcezza?" His voice was a low rumble, sending a shiver down her spine.

She swallowed, forcing herself to meet his stare. "I had to try."

Dante's smirk was slow, dangerous. He took a step forward, then another, until he was right in front of her. He reached out, tracing a single finger down the side of her face, along her jawline, then lower—over the curve of her throat.

"You're mine," he murmured, his voice possessive. "And I don't like my things running away."

Isla's breath hitched. She should have fought back, should have resisted the heat pooling in her stomach.

But when Dante gripped her chin, tilting her face up, she melted.

His mouth crashed against hers, fierce and demanding.

She gasped, her hands flying to his chest, but he didn't let up. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, coaxing them apart, deepening the kiss until she was drowning in him.

Dante's hands roamed down her body, fingers skimming the silk of the dress he had forced her to wear. With one swift motion, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed, pressing her into the sheets.

"You keep pushing me," he growled against her skin. "You keep testing me."

Isla's head tilted back as his lips trailed down her throat, heat coiling low in her stomach.

"Dante…" Her voice was barely a whisper.

He smirked against her skin. "Say my name again, bella."

She bit her lip, refusing to give in so easily. But when his hands slid beneath the fabric of her dress, fingers grazing bare skin, a gasp escaped her lips.

Dante chuckled darkly. "That's what I thought."

He took his time, teasing her, breaking down every ounce of resistance she had left. When he finally pushed her over the edge, her nails dug into his back, her body arching against his.

She had never felt so consumed.

So utterly ruined by a man.

And the worst part?

She wanted him to ruin her again.

The Next Morning

The scent of Dante lingered on her skin as Isla sat on the balcony, staring out at the sprawling DeLuca estate.

She had let herself fall into his arms again.

She had let herself want him.

And now, she was deeper in this game than ever before.

A voice broke through her thoughts.

"You look comfortable for someone who was so desperate to escape."

Isla stiffened.

Slowly, she turned, her heart pounding as she met the gaze of Matteo DeLuca.

Dante's cousin.

The man who had been circling like a vulture since the moment she stepped into this world.

Matteo leaned against the balcony railing, a smirk playing on his lips. He was handsome, in a cruel sort of way—his features sharp, his dark eyes filled with something unreadable.

"What do you want?" she asked coolly.

Matteo chuckled, taking a slow step closer. "Relax, bella. I'm just here to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you."

"Maybe not," Matteo mused. "But I have plenty to say to you."

Isla folded her arms, forcing herself to hold his gaze. "Get to the point."

Matteo's smirk deepened. "Dante thinks he owns you. But we both know you don't belong to him."

Her stomach twisted.

Matteo was watching her too closely, analyzing every flicker of emotion on her face.

"You don't love him," he continued, his voice smooth, coaxing. "You're here for something else. Something bigger."

Isla clenched her jaw.

He was dangerous.

More dangerous than she had anticipated.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said evenly.

Matteo hummed, tilting his head. "You're a good liar, I'll give you that. But not good enough."

Isla's nails dug into her palms.

Matteo took another step closer, his voice lowering. "Dante is powerful. But power makes people reckless. Careless. He's blinded by you, Isla. And that makes him weak."

She didn't respond.

Because she knew he was right.

Dante was letting his guard down around her.

And that terrified her more than anything.

Matteo leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "You're playing a dangerous game, bella. But I can help you win."

Isla's heart pounded. "What are you saying?"

Matteo smiled. "I'm saying… maybe you should be standing beside me instead of Dante."

She swallowed hard.

Matteo reached out, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, his touch feather-light. "Think about it."

Then, just like that, he was gone.

Leaving Isla standing there.

Cold.

Conflicted.

And more trapped than ever before.