Page 6 of Sinister Intentions

“Give us a minute,” Matteo said, then turned until he stood next to me and shoved Salvini back outside.

Our gazes were still locked until Matteo shut the door in his face in one smooth move, locking him out and the two of us in.

I would’ve given everything to be able to see Salvini’s expression after being kicked out of my room so effortlessly.

Only now was not the time since there was still one man too many on this side of the door.

“What the fuck is wrong with your brother?” I asked, shaking my head, but there was no real heat behind my words.

Matteo stared at his feet, then shook his head before he looked up at me and took a step back. At least he wasn’t in the business of invading my personal space like his asshole brother.

“No clue. I’ve never seen him act like this. I have no clue why he would insist on this marriage either and what he would gain from it.”

As if I needed any more evidence.

Vincenzo Salvini had either lost his mind or he knew I was involved in hacking into Salvini Global Enterprise’s servers. But how could he? Our coding had been solid, our actions untraceable. And I never even touched the money. How could he have found out I was involved?

And even if, why would he force me to marry his brother?

So he could control me or lock me into a marriage? Or was it completely unrelated?

Either way, the wise thing for me to do was to disappear. The wise thing for everybody I loved.

“I’ll talk to him and fix this,” Matteo said.

I almost believed him, but then again. You couldn’t trust the Italians. That’s what I’d heard growing up. And that’s what proved to be true. Matteo might seem like a nice guy…compared to his brother, but he was still a Salvini.

And in a fight between Matteo and Vincenzo, I would not bet my money on Matteo—no matter his equally tall, dark, and dangerous aura.

Salvini would smoke him in seconds.

No. I shook my head. I needed to save myself. Which meant to get my shit together, set my plan in motion, and then, get out of my life as it was.

This way, I would ensure the well-being of my family and my freedom while one-upping Salvini.

Because besting and taking the most dangerous man in the Italian Mafia down a notch would send the perfect message.

In a twisted, organized-crime kind of way.

Do not mess with the Donnellys because you will not like the outcome.

CHAPTER THREE

Iwaited until Michele Paresi, my second-in-command and one of my most trusted people, pulled up to the curb outside the Donnelly residence and then opened the driver’s door. “I’ll be driving myself,” I said. “You’ll stay with Alex and Fee and accompany them back to the city safely.”

He stared at me for a split second before he killed the engine and got out.

As did Matt before he rounded the hood and hopped into the passenger seat. His expression was a mix of confusion and extreme annoyance.

But before my little brother would start tearing into me—which he most likely was gearing up to do—I needed something to calm me the fuck down and to pull my mind away from over-obsessing about Jemma Donnelly. Being behind the wheel should at least take care of the second part.

I turned back and looked up at the house and her room’s window. The curtain moved, and I caught a glimpse of her shadow before she disappeared.

I narrowed my eyes. What was it about Jemma Donnelly that made me lose my fucking mind as soon as she opened her sassy mouth?

How did this barely-old-enough-to-count-as-a-woman pain in the ass have the ability to make me lose my cool when nobody I’d ever met had—and that included men and women?

Was it her confrontational attitude? The fact that she’d bested me? Or was her sheer existence enough to make me want to wrap my hands around her neck and squeeze the life out of her? Which would be definitely safer than kissing her into submission.

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