Page 33 of Queen of Vice

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ELENA

I woke up feeling disoriented, my entire body aching with the memory of his touch. The blackout curtains had been partially cracked, letting in a small stream of sunlight. He wasn’t in the room, and part of me was relieved by his absence.

Last night had been unexpected and I wasn't sure how to face him. It wasn't my intention to sleep with Mateo when we went out, or at all for that matter. But to be fair to myself, I doubted many women resisted him once they were in his bedroom, so I couldn't really be held accountable for my actions.

I sat up and looked around in search of my phone. I didn’t see it or the dress he took off me anywhere. What I did see, however, was an outfit folded on top of the ottoman that sat at the foot of the bed. It looked to be another dress—thankfully not as fancy.

The heels were another story. There was a silk ivory robe placed alongside them. Reluctantly kicking the comforter off, I tossed my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet dangling. I gathered up the dress and heels Mateo had left for me, my heart racing as I hurried toward the bathroom. The door creaked open to reveal a room that matched the opulence of the rest of his home.

It was spacious, with dark marble flooring that shone under the gentle lighting. Deep, rich tones covered the walls, creating an atmosphere that felt both extravagant and intimate. Taking up one side of the room was a large walk-in shower with glass walls and polished gold fixtures. And on the other side was an equally impressive vanity, its long marble countertop adorned with neatly arranged toiletries. Above it hung an ornate mirror, its intricate designs reflecting the soft light from a chandelier suspended from the ceiling.

I thought my family was wealthy, this house was the next level. I hurriedly undressed and stepped into the shower, reveling in the warm water cascading over my body. The scent of expensive soap and shampoo filled the air, offering some solace in this unfamiliar place. Once I was clean, I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel, its plush fabric gentle against my skin. At the vanity, I noticed that all of the toiletries were clearly meant for me.

There was a new toothbrush, toothpaste, and even a selection of high-end skincare products laid out as if awaiting my arrival. I brushed my teeth, feeling slightly calmer with the minty freshness in my mouth, before getting dressed. Mateo's chosen dress was nice and soft, fitting me perfectly as if it were tailor-made. The floral pattern was vibrant, a stark contrast to the dark, moody ambiance of the bathroom and the rest of his home. I slipped into the black heels, taking a deep breath to steady myself.

I stepped out into the hallway, the soft click of the door closing behind me echoing in the quiet. The quiet elegance of the space was overwhelming, the kind of luxury that made you feel both in awe and slightly out of place. I took a moment trying to get my bearings. The silence was almost palpable, broken only by the distant hum of activity somewhere within the house.

Gathering my composure, I headed toward the grand staircase, my steps measured and cautious. As I descended slowly, my hand glided along the polished mahogany railing, the smooth surface cool beneath my fingertips. Before I reached the bottom, a figure emerged from a side corridor and approached the base of the stairs. It was an older man with dark blonde hair, neatly combed back, and dressed in simple yet impeccable formal wear. His posture was straight and respectful, exuding an air of quiet authority.

"Miss Castello," he greeted politely, his voice smooth and professional.

I paused on the last step, momentarily taken aback by his sudden appearance. My eyes took him in cautiously as I tried to discern his intentions.

"Mr. Escuro is right this way," he continued, extending a hand in the direction of a long hallway.

I hesitated for a fraction of a second before giving a small nod. "Thank you," I replied softly, my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my chest.

He waited patiently as I descended the final step and then turned to lead the way. Falling into step behind him, I couldn't help but notice the glint of metal peeking out from beneath his jacket. A gun was holstered at the back of his slacks, a stark reminder of the world I had stepped into. The sight made my stomach tighten, but I kept my expression neutral, unwilling to show any sign of unease.

The sound of my heels echoed through the corridor, each click-clack against the shiny floor amplifying the silence around us. The hallway was adorned with exquisite artwork and antique furnishings, each piece likely holding its own story and worth more than I could imagine. As we walked, I glanced around, an unsettling feeling prickling at the back of my neck as if unseen eyes were tracking my every move.

Despite the grandeur and beauty surrounding me, there was an undercurrent of tension in the air, a sense that nothing here was quite as serene as it appeared. Yet, no matter how hard I looked, I saw no one else—only shadows and the distant, muffled sounds that hinted at life beyond these walls. We reached the end of the hallway, stopping in front of a pair of imposing dark oval doors. The man turned to me with a courteous nod, gesturing toward a set of chairs positioned against the wall.

"Please have a seat," he instructed politely.

I obliged, smoothing the fabric of my dress as I settled into one of the chairs. The cushion was firm yet comfortable, upholstered in rich, dark leather that matched the opulent decor of the house. The man approached the doors and opened one just wide enough to slip through, offering me a brief glimpse into the room beyond. I caught sight of four men dressed in dark suits, their postures rigid and expressions unreadable, before the door closed again with a soft thud.

Left alone in the quiet hallway, I took a deep breath, attempting to steady the nervous energy swirling inside me. My mind raced with questions and uncertainties, but I knew that soon enough, I would have to face whatever awaited me beyond those doors. For now, all I could do was wait and try to maintain the composure that had carried me this far. The silence enveloped me once more, broken only by the distant tick of a grandfather clock.

A man’s shrill cry of pain jolted me to my feet, the sound slicing through the heavy silence. My pulse quickened as I took an instinctive step back, every nerve in my body screaming to retreat from whatever was happening in the next room. Before I could take another step, both doors swung open with a force that made the chandelier overhead tremble, and the man in question was unceremoniously shoved into the hall.

He landed on his knees with a sickening thud, his disorientation evident as he wobbled, trying to regain his bearings. His once immaculate suit was now a crumpled mess, one cufflink torn away, dangling uselessly from his sleeve. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his hand, which was desperately cupping a bleeding nose, the bones beneath the skin twisted into an unnatural angle that made my stomach churn.

Mateo emerged from the room like a dark specter.

His expression was infuriatingly calm, almost indifferent, as he looked down at the man.

"Get him out of my house," he commanded, his voice a quiet yet authoritative force that left no room for argument.

Two of the men I had glimpsed earlier stepped forward without hesitation, each grabbing an arm and beginning to drag the man down the hall. His feet scraped against the polished floor, leaving faint streaks of blood in their wake. The third man, the one who had stayed back, gave Mateo a tight-lipped smile, though the fear in his eyes was palpable. He muttered something unintelligible under his breath before scurrying after the others, his anxiety evident in every hurried step.

I stood frozen, still staring down the empty hall long after they had vanished from sight, the remnants of the scene playing on a loop in my mind.

“Elena.”

My name, spoken softly, snapped me out of my daze. Mateo’s voice was gentle, yet it carried an unspoken command that drew my gaze back to him. He stood there, composed, as if what I had just witnessed was nothing more than an everyday occurrence—a man completely in control, even amid violence. Our eyes locked, and for a brief moment, I was acutely aware of the vast chasm between us.

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