Page 19 of The Mafia King's Acquisition
He chuckles at that.
Silence stretches between us for a beat.
“I have no desire to kill you, Ms. Beaumont. It would be a waste. You could be an asset in the future. A woman like you, fearless, intuitive, and unwilling to back down from her cause.”
My eyes narrow. “Was that a job offer?”
“Would you take it if it was?”
“I’d rather bash my head into a wall.”
He offers me a controlled smirk. “That can be arranged.”
The threat is delivered cooly and ice floods through my veins. He must notice because he rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair.
“Relax, I would never hurt you. I don’t hurt women.”
“How gentlemanly of you,” I bite out.
“Have a drink, Prosecutor,” he says smoothly, leaning back. “It might help you loosen up.”
His gaze drags over me slowly, lingering just long enough to make heat crawl beneath my skin.
“I’m not here to fight you. I just want to talk.”
I scoff softly, but my fingers tighten around the glass anyway.
“Like you said,” he continues, voice maddeningly calm, “our families are intertwined.” His mouth curves slightly. “Your father and I have a longstanding arrangement, and my brother is married to your best friend.” His eyes darken as they lock on mine. “Which reminds me… how did that meeting go without me?”
By meeting, he means the deposition he’d been ordered to attend regarding the financial records tied to the Vitale family’s allegedly legitimate businesses.
I’d gone to visit Valentina after she found out she was pregnant and found him standing outside, commanding like temptation wrapped in an expensive suit. Our process server had spent weeks trying and failing to serve him. Matteo Vitale has a talent for disappearing when it suits him.
So I took matters into my own hands.
I still remember the way his eyes followed me as I crossed the yard toward him. Calm. Curious. Dangerous.
“Matteo Vitale?” I asked, even though we both knew exactly who he was.
He looked up slowly, dark eyes sliding over me in a way that felt entirely inappropriate for the situation. Like he wasn’t looking at a lawyer. Like he was imagining something else entirely.
I slapped the subpoena against his chest. “You’ve been served.”
His men had gone quiet.
But Matteo hadn’t even glanced at the paperwork.
Instead, his hand closed over mine, large and warm against my skin, pinning my palm against his chest along with the documents. The heat of him seeped through the fabric of his shirt instantly. Steady heartbeat. Expensive cologne. Pure trouble.
His thumb brushed once against the inside of my wrist, so subtle I almost convinced myself I imagined it.
Almost.
My breath caught traitorously as he leaned in just enough for only me to hear him.
“Careful, Counselor,” he murmured. “You keep touching me like this, people are going to get the wrong idea.”
I yanked my hand back first, hating the way the movement felt more like retreat.
