Drones? I glance upward as if I can see through the ceiling. This is like being in an action movie. Next an attack helicopter will come over the hill and start firing at our enemies or something. My family has good security, though, so I'm used to it. Still, the way this is all going down is making me slightly nervous.

“I really think I should go home,” I say to Matteo. “In all seriousness, I'm sorry I pulled such a stupid stunt. I shouldn't have done it, and I was being childish to try to hurt you.”

I’m defeated in this moment, but there is no point lying anymore. There's no point in trying to spin this or play games. Clearly, something huge is going down here, and I'm about to be in the crosshairs if I don't get myself out of here.

“I was hurt because I know it was all just a game to you,” I say sadly.

Matteo glances around him, then he takes my hand and leads me down the hallway.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Clifford demands angrily.

“I'll be ten minutes,” Matteo replies. “Great work, Jeremy. Keep it up, and let me know if anything changes.”

Matteo drags me into his study and slams the door shut. He walks to his desk and perches on the edge of it, hands gripping the wood either side of him as he looks at me, his gaze speculative. “Do you mind explaining exactly what you mean by that?”

“Oh, come on, Matteo.” I shake my head. “I thought you were smarter than that. I will admit I was sucked in at first. Mother was telling me all about the wonderful Angela who works for her and drips her bits of information about your organization and your life. I suppose I swallowed that quite easily. And then you brought me here into your lair and had your wicked way with me. And it was so good it addled my brain. Not enough, though, that when I walked into here, with the door handily left wide open, and saw all the things on your desk it didn’t click. It's pretty obvious it was a setup, Matteo. I'm only offended that you think so little of my intelligence.”

He cocks his head to one side and looks at me as if I'm amusing.

“It's not damn funny,” I seethe. I want to punch him in the face, never mind slap him.

“So, you think you figured it out, huh? How did you see the pictures?”

“I picked the stupid lock on your desk.”

“You did what?” A flash of fury streaks across his face. Then it's replaced with something that follows fast on its heels, something wild and dangerous. “You know how to pick a lock?”

“Of course I do. I know a lot of things. When you went out the other day on your little emergency trip, I came in here and saw in your drawer. You've been following me. For ages. It was all just a game to get back at my family. Nothing but revenge. I just want to know one thing. Was it revenge on my family for the way that they've fucked yours over all these years, or was it revenge on me? Is this all about Duncan?”

“If you ever say his name again,” Matteo says seriously, “I'll tie you up and gag you with the most beautiful silk you've ever seen and will only take it out to feed you chocolate covered strawberries and champagne. And I'll leave you that way for a week. Then I will watch the security feed for my study, which I am behind on due to recent events, and fuck my cock into my fist while I watch you pick my lock.”

“Well, that's interestingly deranged. You are a psychopath. There is something seriously wrong with you.”

“Says the woman who has twice humiliated me in my life. I mean, you set that up tonight, right? Did you ever think about the guy? Did you ever think about what happens to him?”

“Nothing will happen to him because he didn't do anything wrong. He only met me once in a shopping mall and gave me his card. He hasn’t done anything to you.”

“Do you know why I asked him which hand he uses?”

“No.” My stomach sinks at his words.

“When I have his hand broken, I can make sure it's not the dominant hand. The punishment fits the crime. If he ever dared to touch you again, I'd break the other one, and then he’d be useless for the rest of his miserable life.”

“You can't do that,” I gasp. “Matteo, he had no idea there was anything between us. It isn’t his fault. I tricked him. I should be the one to be punished.”

“You will be, though, won't you? You'll be punished by knowing what that man is going through is because of your tricks.”

“My tricks?” I want to scream. This man is so infuriating. “What about yours? How long have you been following me? No, don't answer that; I don't want to know. Listen, Matteo, in all seriousness, this has gone far enough.”

Suddenly, I just feel an overwhelming sense of deep exhaustion. All of this—the games, toxicity, it needs to end. I must protect myself and be the adult in the room here.

The way he’s looking at me is making me burn inside, but I can't give in to it. I need to go home and just eat chocolate on my sofa and live a normal life. I think there's a new series of Married at First Sight starting tonight. I'll curl up, eat myself into a sugar-induced coma, and watch trashy TV.

“Says who?” He still hasn't moved, and the way he's watching me is so alert it sends a shiver down my spine.

“Me. I don't want to be a pawn in your games with my family.”

“Yet, when you thought you could play me, you were all in, correct? I never set it up so that you would come to me thinking there was anything real here. I set it up to see if you took the bait and tried to pull one over on me. You did. You came to that restaurant as an informant for your family.”