Page 47 of Brutal Revenge

As my hand slips into Matteo’s, he says, “Ready to make him regret everything?”

It’s a fight to school my expression. “More than ready.”

He pulls back the curtain as if he has no clue that the darkness of my past is lurking beyond it.

When Antonio balks, Matteo’s teeth graze his lower lip, scarcely concealing his smug grin.

He’s enjoying this a little too much.

Antonio’s head snaps toward me. “Azra?” he says again, differently this time. His voice is strained, and something oddly similar to disbelief threads through it.

I blink as if embarrassed he caught us. It isn’t a hard ruse to pull off since it’s true. Antonio wasn’t the only one who caught me off guard. It isn’t even Matteo. It’s the actions of my lusty head.

“Anto… Hi.”

He removes his sunglasses, revealing blackened and unfocused eyes. They’re not the eyes of an exhausted man recovering from losing someone he didn’t realize he wanted until she was stolen from him. They’re the marks of a man punished for his many false notions of what is right and wrong.

It’s a fight not to smile. The only reason I hold back is because Antonio makes out that he knows the difference between my groans of disgust and my moans of pleasure. “I thought that was you. I’d recognize those noises anywhere.”

With one hand not enough to slow down a man like Matteo, Iclutch his hand firmly before digging the nails of my other hand into the tattooed skin on his forearm. It’s pretentious of me to assume he’ll bristle with jealousy from Antonio’s comment, but he did admit only minutes ago that that was the reason he stopped our exchange in the SUV.

Despite my battle to keep his feet rooted to the floor, Matteo moves closer to Antonio. He isn’t within striking distance, but close enough to make the implication of Antonio’s actions unmistakable.

“Then I suggest you learn fucking quickly how to forget what she sounds like when she’s about to come before I rearrange your face with my fists.”

Antonio’s gaze dances between us, the fear in them picking up the more time passes. “You… were about to come?”

“Yeah,” Matteo answers before I can register my disgust, much less voice it. His tone is pleasant but propped up with an unvoiced threat. “She was.”

Antonio’s jaw tightens as he signs his death certificate with a stern glare. “When have you not been a fuck ’em and dump ’em guy, Matteo?”

Matteo returns his glare before his focus shifts to me. An exciting zap darts down my spine as he drags his eyes over my flushed face and body. “Have you seen her? Who the fuck would give that up?” He turns his lusty eyes back to Antonio. “Only a fool.”

I love everything he’s saying, and that his tone is gospel, but I can’t forget my objective.

Two pairs of equally menacing eyes snap to me when I mutter, “We also haven’t…fucked.”

Matteo’s grip firms so much his clipped nails dig into my palm.

Antonio peacock feathers fan as he smirks arrogantly.

I work on the latter first.

“Because we’re upholding the terms of our marriage contract.” I tilt in close to Matteo’s side and breathe in both the scent of his skin and the heat of his annoyance. “We don’t want anything to ruin our chance of becoming husband and wife.”

Antonio’s lips hitch at one side, and instantly, I see sparks of the man I must marry. “Right. The purity clause.” He doesn’t even attempt to hide his smile while shifting his attention back to Matteo. “Have fun with that…” He twists his lips. “Or not.”

After a sleazy wink directed at me, he turns on his heel and walks away. Or should I say limps away? He’s walking stiffly, and it has me desperate to ask Matteo if he knows what happened to him.

Before I can utter a word, Matteo hustles me out of the boutique, briefly muttering to the cashier to deliver my purchases to his estate.

He’s so blistering mad that I don’t protest when he straddles his bike before holding out his hand to help me on. I slot into the leather seat behind him and wrap my arms around his waist, unblinking.

Unconcerned that we have absolutely no form of protection if we get into a wreck, he skids out of the parking spot at a speed too fast to be safe. I’m not even wearing a helmet this time.

Within minutes, the urban jungle’s familiar streets give way to dirt roads and endless miles of untouched countryside. There isn’t a single house in sight, and I learn that’s the point when Matteo pulls into a recently turned-up lot half a second before telling me to remove his dick from his pants.

“Wh-what?” I ask, shocked.