Page 34 of His Tesoro

“Do what?”

“Push my chair. I don’t really like people touching it.” I braced myself for his anger, or at least his frustration, but he just released the handles.

“But you’re tired,” he said.

I cocked my head. “How do you know that?”

He crossed his arms. “I know everything.” He sounded so grumpy I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.

“Right…”

“So, if you’re tired, why can’t I push you?”

I didn’t have much experience with anyone touching my chair when I was in it, but then, most of my wheelchair experience was puttering around Mila and mine’s little private island in the Pakhan’s mansion. I’d never had to push myself for any distance like I had the past few days, and my shoulders were paying for it.

I chewed my lip. As frustrated as I was about having a wheelchair, it was an extension of my body. Having someone else control my movements made me anxious, although it wasn’t like Matteo couldn’t overpower me in half a second anyway, if he wanted to.

“I guess it would be okay. If you ask first.” I must have had a death wish, but I did get some enjoyment at seeing Matteo’s eye twitch. Even if it was the last thing I ever saw.

He huffed and ran his hand through his hair. “And here I thought you were so meek and quiet. A Don doesn’t ask permission, Sofiya.”

I turned my chair to face him. “I didn’t realize there was a handbook for Dons. Is there a copy in your library?”

Just then, a car parked up beside us and Angelo got out. I met his gaze. “Did you know Dons have a handbook?”

He grinned. “What’s that?”

“Sofiya’s decided to be a nuisance,” Matteo said, but there was no bite in his voice.

“As she should be,” Angelo said. His expression immediately sobered when Matteo glared at him.

I rolled my eyes. “Oh come on, he’s not that scary.”

Matteo just gave me an exasperated look. “I will warn you before I touch your chair. That’s the best I can do.” Then he turned to my bodyguard. “You’re not to push her in the wheelchair without asking her permission.”

Angelo looked down at me and nodded seriously. A warm fuzziness filled my chest.

“Let’s fucking get going. I’m going to push you now.”

I snorted but sat back as my husband moved me to the elevator. Having him at my back was strangely comforting.

The elevator took us up two floors and opened onto a large lobby. I had expected it to be white and sterile with fluorescent lights, but instead, there were warm wood floors and soft, glowing lamps.

A beautiful woman who looked to be in her forties with dark brown hair, olive skin, and a stern expression walked quickly to meet us. “About time, Boss,” she said, crossing her arms. Then she looked down at me. “I’m Dr. Aria Amato, and you must be Sofiya. You are far too lovely to be stuck with this one.”

“I thought you were in a hurry,” Matteo huffed.

I raised my eyebrows, looking between the two of them with a grin. “You two sound like siblings.”

“I’ve known him all my life. Haven’t been able to get rid of him yet,” Dr. Amato said, but a smile teased at her mouth.

“I buy you a whole fucking clinic and then have to listen to this?”

“That’s right,” she responded. Her eyes were warm when she looked at me. “I appreciate you coming, Sofiya. I’m not entirely sure the girls speak Russian. I’ve tried to use a translation app, but they’ve been pretty unresponsive. That could be due to the trauma, though. I’ve gathered their names are Anastasia and Kateryna. I examined them when they arrived. They had some cuts and bruises, but the worst was the sexual trauma.”

My heart lurched and I blinked quickly to keep from crying. I felt so inadequate. What could I do to help these girls? But this wasn’t about me or my sadness. They deserved someone to listen to them, so I would do whatever I could.

“They’re obviously scared and untrusting,” she continued. “So I really hope you can understand them and that they’ll speak to you. If they have a home to go back to, we’ll get them there. If not, we’ll get them somewhere safe.”

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