Page 2 of Business Temptations

Before Matteo could find respite in the refuge of sleep, a chilling scraping sound reverberated through the dimly lit hallway outside his room. His eyes snapped open, pupils dilating in the darkness as he strained to identify the source of the disturbance. Clouds drifted lazily across the night sky, casting fleeting shadows that danced across the walls, while the feeble glow of the moon offered little solace.

The scraping ceased abruptly, plunging the room into an oppressive silence that seemed to suffocate Matteo. His senses sharpened, every nerve tingling with apprehension. Was it rats scurrying about in the dead of night, their presence a sinister omen in this decrepit boarding school? Or perhaps something far more menacing lurked in the shadows, unseen but undeniably present.

Matteo remained frozen in place, his breathing shallow and ragged, fear clawing at his throat. The air grew thick with tension as he strained to discern any sign of movement beyond the confines of this miserable room. And then, just as his heart threatened to burst from his chest, the sound returned, accompanied by a faint shuffling that set his nerves alight.

His gaze fixated on the imposing door, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach as something shifted, barely perceptible, beneath the narrow gap at its base. Panic surged through Matteo's veins like a wildfire, his mind racing with terrifying possibilities. What lurked on the other side, concealed by the veil of darkness?

With every fiber of his being, Matteo fought to suppress the overwhelming urge to flee, to reveal the depth of his fear to whoever or whatever lay beyond that ominous door. If this was another twisted test, another punishment devised by those who held power over him, Matteo refused to show weakness. But as the tension mounted and the unknown threat loomed ever closer, Matteo's resolve wavered, a desperate plea for salvation echoing silently in the depths of his soul.

But no, the small object sliding under the doorway wasn’t an animal. It was…a tube of…something? He didn’t recognize the shape and there wasn’t enough light to read the label from his sitting position against the wall.

“For your lip!” a small voice whispered.

Matteo jumped at the sound of another human being. Quickly, his mind sifted through the possibilities. Another trick?

“Who are you?” he demanded, not touching the thing on the floor for fear of what might happen if he did.

“I can’t tell you!” the voice whispered back.

A moment later, something else was pushed under the doorway. Matteo stood up and inched closer, intrigued despite himself.

“I know you’re hungry,” the voice whispered.

Matteo looked down, wondering if the flat package was food. Si, of course he was hungry. He’d been dragged up here to this attic room right before dinner and no food had been delivered. The absence of a meal was part of his punishment, he knew.

He bent down and picked up the small white tube and realized that it was antibiotic ointment. He squeezed a bit out and rubbed it on his split lip. Instantly, the throbbing pain eased and he realized that the ointment must have a bit of anesthetic in it as well.

“If you tug the corner from your side, this will be easier.”

Matteo wondered what that meant until he noticed a small corner of something appeared under the door. There was less than an inch of space between the door and the wood floor. Just enough to see the corner of a rough blanket being shoved through.

Matteo pulled at the corner, careful not to tug too hard and make the material bunch up on the other side. With a bit of strategic tugging, he managed to pull the whole blanket through. Wow! Immediately, he wrapped the wool blanket around his shoulders, grateful for the warmth.

“Thank you!” he whispered back. “Who are you?”

“Can’t tell you!” the voice whispered.

Moments later, he heard quiet footsteps receding from the door and down the stairs.

He looked down and realized that his mysterious “friend” had also shoved two protein bars under the door. Hungrily, he ripped open the wrapper and took a huge bite, nearly choking in his hurry to get the food into his urgently cramping belly.

With a sigh, he lowered himself back down to the floor, chewing slowly with his eyes closed, pretending that the sawdust-flavored protein bar was actually a cookie. Chocolate chip, he thought. No, gingersnaps. He remembered the school cook had made gingersnaps for dessert recently and they were the best cookies he’d ever tasted.

With his belly quieted, if not satisfied, Matteo spread out the blanket and settled down on the floor. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering what time it was. But after trying to figure out the time based on the placement of the moon in the sky, he gave up. He didn’t know enough about the moon’s movements, so anything he came up with would be a guess.

He acknowledged that it would be better if he got some sleep. With the blanket to protect his uniform from the dust and grime covering the floor, he closed his eyes and, almost instantly, fell asleep.

The heavy footsteps echoing through the hallway startled Matteo awake. With a speed he hadn’t realized he was capable of, he rolled up the blanket and, after quickly glancing around the room, stuffed it into the empty closet, closing the door just as a key clicked into the lock of the entry door.

Matteo turned, smoothing the angry expression from his features as he faced his tormentor.

“Have you learned your lesson, young man?” Headmaster Daniels demanded, spinning the ancient key ring on his index finger. The movement reminded him of a movie Matteo had seen a long time ago about a prison guard and death row inmates.

Matteo blinked, focusing back on the present. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure what the headmaster was talking about. “Sir?” He nearly choked on the term of respect. “I didn’t start that fight yesterday. I was just defending myself.”

The headmaster sighed, as if severely put out by Matteo’s answer. “I know you’re not from the United States, son,” he replied, shaking his head. “However, fighting is not allowed here at The Colby School for Boys. You’re going to have to learn to work out your problems in a more civilized manner. Otherwise, you will be spending a great deal of time here in this punishment room.”

Matteo didn’t respond. After only two months here, Matteo knew that the headmaster was doing everything possible to make Matteo’s life miserable. This latest punishment was completely unjustified, and the headmaster knew it. Matteo had been attacked by three of the other students, but Matteo, being a better fighter, had won the battle. He’d had to be, growing up in a small village outside of Madrid and being the illegitimate son of one of the wealthiest landowners in Spain. Matteo had learned early on how to defend himself. The local kids had loved picking on him so learning strategic fighting tactics had been essential.

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