Page 154 of Brutal Revenge

Instead of waiting for Matteo to bring breakfast to me—like he has every day since we arrived at the cabin—I slip out of bed.

My legs tremble as I cross the room, but they hold. When I exit the bedroom, I spot Matteo in the kitchen. He’s barefoot and shirtless, wearing low-riding dark-gray sweatpants, cooking as if he’s been doing it his whole life. His hair is messy, his shoulders are broad, and his strong, muscular back already registers as familiar.

Over the past five days, he proved he would crawl over glass to reach me, and it’s made me fall for him more than I ever thought possible.

Matteo turns when he hears me, and his eyes soften instantly. “Morning,la mia tigrotta.”

I swallow, my throat suddenly hot from the husky delivery of my nickname. It reminds me so much of how often he woke me with greedy licks and hungry sucks before Antonio tried to taunt me to my death.

“Hi.”

He sets down the spatula, walks over to me, and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “Are you sure you want to leave the warmth of the blankets? It’s fucking freezing up here.”

“Says the guy not wearing a shirt.”

His tongue peeks between his teeth as he hits me with a frisky wink. “You were too busy snoring to tell me what you wanted to eat, so I thought I’d keep your options open.”

I backhand his stomach, doubling his grin. “I donotsnore.”

What?I can’t go straight to begging to eat him for breakfast, or he’ll never know how much his support has meant to me.

Even the most confident man wouldn’t need to feel guilty about pulling the pin this early in a forming relationship. Our vows may have said until death do us part, but they didn’t mention psychotic meltdowns.

My hit doesn’t keep Matteo down for a second. “Don’t feel bad. You’re keeping the tourists guessing.” He moseys back to the skillet, his ab muscles popping with each swaggered step. “They still believe the worst threat in these mountains is bears and wolves. My bite is alotharder.”

“You better not be biting anyone, mister.”

His smile…Did I die?“I’m not biting anyone. Except you… if you want me to.”

Needing to sit before I fall, I plonk my backside onto a stool near the breakfast bar, then get our conversation back on track. “You can blame a 1945 Italian children’s book classic for people’s beliefs that bears aren’t extinct in Sicily.The Bears’—”

“Famous Invasion of Sicilyby Dino Buzzati,” Matteo says with me. “My mother read it to me all the time when I was a kid.” He slides freshly made crepes onto a plate before spinning to face me. “It’s been years, and I still know the words by heart.”

I smile, loving that he’s talking about his mother without the usual pain his voice once held.

“Do you miss her?”

“Every fucking day,” he says without pause for thought. “But the grief isn’t as bad now.”

“Why?” I ask, desperate for guidance on how to continue moving forward. I lost Hattie four years ago, but I’ve never had the chance to truly grieve her. I held it back until I felt safe to express it without judgment.

Clearly, I feel safe with Matteo.

He plucks a fork out of the drying rack, then slips onto the chair next to me, not looking at me as he replies, “Because she wouldn’t have been able to give me you if she were still here.”

My heart bursts.

For once, it is in a good way.

In silence, we eat together on the island. The crepes taste better than anything I’ve had in days, and not solely because I add thecondiments I like, but because everything tastes better when it’s made with love.

Halfway through breakfast, guilt creeps in. It isn’t that all-encompassing guilt I felt earlier. Just loathsomeness that I’ve burdened Matteo more than I’ve made Antonio’s life a living hell.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

Matteo looks up sharply. “For what?”

“For taking so long to find myself again.”