Page 51 of My Ghost

“If you don’t release her right now, you’ll be leaving here one limb at a time,” a cold voice barks sharply from behind us.

I freeze.

Shit, could things get any worse?

Arthur, or whatever his name is, doesn’t let go, though.Instead, he turns around with an annoyed huff.“Man, I’ve seen her first.Leave us—”

Before he can finish his sentence, Matteo has wrapped his hand around the man’s throat, lifting him up in the air.The tendons in his forearm are standing out like cables.Arthur chokes, his eyes going wide, bulging as Matteo squeezes.I yank my wrist free, stumbling back, dread crashing over me like ice water.

Matteo looks ready to kill the man, and his voice is a low, dangerous snarl.

“One,” he growls, his voice low and lethal, “you just broke this club’s first and last rule—free consent.Consider your membership void.Two”— he yanks Arthur closer, his face inches away—“this woman.Is.Mine.And three…” His voice drops to a guttural snarl that makes my knees weak.“If I ever see your face again, you’ll be buried so deep not even hell will find you.Do I make myself clear?”

Arthur croaks out a terrified “Yes!”or at least I think that’s what it was, because Matteo shoves him back so hard he crashes to the floor, landing on his ass.

Arthur’s face is ashen, his terror so raw it almost makes me pity him.Almost.“I-I didn’t know.I’m sorry, Sir, I—”

“Out!”Matteo bellows.The single word is like a whipcrack, and Arthur scrambles away, nearly tripping over himself in his hurry to flee.

I blink, watching him run.Then gulp.

Time to face the devil.

Matteo is glaring down at me, eyes blazing with red-hot fury.My heart is hammering against my ribs.“Matteo, I-I can explain…”

He doesn’t reply.He grabs my hand and yanks me forward as he begins to walk away, pulling me along.I feel a deep, deadly terror claw at my throat.I can’t fight him, can’t escape his possessive hold.People stare but no one dares to intervene to save me.And so I’m dragged, helpless and trembling, straight into the belly of hell by the lord of the underworld himself.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Erin

Matteo hauls me toward a dim hallway, his grasp on my wrist like a steel band.My skin burns where his fingers dig in and his fury is so palpable I barely dare to breathe, let alone fight him.

“Matteo…wait,” I plead, my voice trembling.

He doesn’t slow, doesn’t even glance my way.His silence is more terrifying than any shouted threat.Then I see that he is dragging me toward a black door at the end of the corridor.Without hesitation, he lifts his hand, and that’s when I see it—a jet-black band that gleams on his finger with a sinister glint.He swipes it over the scanner, and the reader flashes green.

The lock disengages with a hiss, and before I can react, he pushes the heavy door open and shoves me inside.He follows, closing it behind him with a solid click that sounds like terrifying finality.

I am trapped…with him.

I look around frantically.The room is dimly lit, but I can see that there are no openings except for a door at the far end.It stands slightly ajar, revealing the shine of polished marble and gold fixtures from what looks like a bathroom.The room itself is opulent, all red and black, the low lighting creating an intimate atmosphere.There is a sitting corner with a dark brown leather sofa and armchairs around a low table.What has my heart pounding wildly in my chest, though, is the massive circular bed in the center of the room.The black silk catches and absorbs the light like a black hole and I feel my terror spiral further.

I turn to Matteo who is standing at the door, breathing hard, eyes fiery and predatory.

“Matteo, can we please talk?”I croak hoarsely.

He stalks closer and I take a step back.

“What are you doing in my club, little ghost?”His voice is a rough, low growl as if he is trying to contain his rage.

I take another step back, but my legs bump against the bed, and before I can sidestep it, he is on me.He curls his fingers around my upper arms in an unescapable grip and pulls me into him so hard that I stumble.

“Were you looking for company?”he seethes.“Someone to fuck you until you can’t walk?”His crude words are less jarring than the harsh tone of his voice.

“Matteo…” I try again, but there is no recognition in his eyes, only darkness as they burn into mine.

“Tell me, little ghost”—his voice drops to a dangerous whisper, each word searing my skin—“do you want to be fucked sore?”