Page 69 of Matteo

An eyebrow goes up as he studies me. “Yes, he’s fine—for the most part. It’s why I’m here.”

Confused by the cryptic words, I step back and motion for him to come in.

“Have a seat,” he invites as he stands behind a chair at the dining table.

His eyes go to my canvas. My stomach twists even tighter. Matteo mentioned that Rafe is into art. He’s the reason why a Degas and Picasso are in the art museum in Dallas. A nod is all he gives the painting before returning his eyes to me.

My legs all but go out from under me. The man is imposing as hell—especially when he remains standing—towering over me. Odd how I’m only now seeing how strongly he reminds me of Matteo. “What’s the matter?”

“Is it money you are seeking from my brother? Because I can give it to you. I have no problem putting five million at your disposal today. It would allow you to go as far away from your ex-husband as possible and provide for you and your daughter for years.”

Outraged. “How dare you?—”

“I dare a whole hell of a lot when it comes to my brother and his happiness. I was willing to let this go on as long as I believed he was happy with you. Even if you didn’t love him, his love would be enough to carry your relationship—he believed. I resolved not to get involved. Yet, for the second weekend in a row, I have to watch you rebuff his love and affection at every turn.”

“What are you talking about? Matteo doesn’t love me.” I shake my head. Wanting isn’t love. And wanting simply because I was in the same space as him isn’t enough for me—not when I have Layla to worry about. I’m not going to let myself and her get attached when it’s purely physical.

“He doesn’t. Okay, don’t be mad. He came up with me being his fake girlfriend to get your mom off his back. I love him, but I can’t because this is all fake. He’s being nice to me.”

“Fake? Nice? He’s so in love with you that he went from working eighty hours a week to barely thirty hours a week to be with you. Matteo is a good man. However, even he isn’t nice enough to go so far as to plan—” He clamps his mouth shut and shakes his head.

“Plan, what? What is he planning?” His outrage couldn’t be faked. Rafe wouldn’t be here if he didn’t believe every word he said. Maybe Matteo told him to keep the fake thing going, or maybe…Matteo loves me.

“Oh my god, he loves me? Like, really loves me?” Now I’m up pacing the kitchen.

His eyes narrow on me. “It would appear I got it wrong. And you. I apologize.”

“Oh, shut up.” I throw at him as I keep pacing. “You and your sanctimonious bullshit. The only reason I’m not throwing you out is because I need answers.” I stare him down. “Did he love me all this time?”

One shoulder goes up, then down. “I don’t know. I was unaware of this fake girlfriend thing.”

Annoyed at him all over again. “When did you find out he loved me?”

His eyes drop from mine. “You should talk to?—”

I make it back to the dining room table. “What is Matteo planning?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit. I’m tired of being lied to.”

That eyebrow goes up again. “Then you should talk to Matteo and demand the truth.” His eyes flick to the painting. “Are you willing to sell it?”

Is he serious? I’m not one hundred percent certain how I feel about the man, but Matteo loves him. And he did come over here because he loves Matteo, so…fine. “Yes?”

“Will you take a hundred for it?”

What the hell? I got a slight discount because the owner wanted it gone, but any other day the canvas itself is a hundred dollars. Whatever, I need this weird moment to be done so I can go back to freaking out. “Okay.”

A final nod to me, then he’s gone.

I want to scream it out loud. Matteo loves me. I wince at how dumb I was not to see it sooner. I mean, for fuck's sake, he did everything short of saying it. Even then… I flashback to two days ago when he caught me by the back of the neck and what he said. He did say he loved me—I just didn’t hear it.

My alarm goes off. It’s time to get ready to take lunch to Matteo. Except I can’t. I can’t see him now that I know. It’s the same way I was weird with Matteo yesterday. My longing for him felt so raw. I was certain if Matteo looked at me for thirty seconds, he would see it.

If I go to see him at work, I won’t be able to keep my mouth shut. And his office at work is not the place for us to talk about it.

Turning off the alarm on my phone. I chicken out and text Matteo.

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