Page 68 of Sinister Intentions

Did he hear what Dante said to me? Or was he watching me the whole time?

Anyways. I needed to turn the subject of discussion back to a safer one.

“What’s your father like?” I asked into the group because there was nothing safer, and more off-putting than thinking about Salvini senior. Also, I wanted to know if Fee’s and my assessment was right.

The skin around Vince’s eyes tensed, and he pressed his lips together at my clumsy attempt at a change of topic.

“Count your blessings he isn’t here,” Matt said and leaned closer.

Intrigued, I turned to him. “Why?”

A shadow crossed Matt’s features. “He’s ice-cold. Borderline crazy and a pathological womanizer.”

I followed Matt’s eyes to Petra, who shrunk in her seat.

Poor woman. But also, why the fuck was she with someone like Mr. Salvini when even his own sons disliked him?

My gaze flickered to Vince, who watched Matt next to him, then moved his gaze to me from across the table as if he’d sensed my attention.

The electricity between us was undeniable, and a part of me sparked at having his intense attention fixed on me—what a mind-fuck, considering the less he thought about me, the better my chances were.

“How would you describe Vince’s personality? Is he similar to your father?” I asked, unable to resist the curiosity while I held his gaze. I raised a challenging eyebrow when Vince narrowed his eyes, then severed our contact and stared Matt down.

Not that Matt cared. He didn’t even take a moment to think about it. “On the outside, they may seem alike. But once you get to know him”—he pointed at Vince with his thumb—“you realize he’s completely different.”

Dante and Hero nodded in agreement.

I looked back at Vince, and he immediately met my eyes as if he’d been waiting for it or staring at me the whole time.

I immediately looked away, unable to hold his intense gaze.

Somehow, even though he’d bulldozed through every boundary there was this afternoon, and the way he looked at me was a little disconcerting, I did not get a creepy vibe from him.

Not at all, which was kind of surprising.

Not even when he undressed me; not even when I watched him naked, wet, and jerking off. I never felt unsafe with him. The opposite really.

The way he cared for me, the way he handled me—it was in stark contrast to the image I had originally built in my mind.

I wanted to know more about him—more about the man beneath the hardened exterior. Yet, I forced myself to remain silent, knowing it was safer to keep my curiosity in check.

I looked at Matt, who seemed deep in thought.

Matt looked up, stared at Vince for a moment before he met my gaze. There was something in his eyes, pain, maybe, or regret? “All the expectations really fell on him as the oldest,” he continued, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness. “He really had it the worst.”

“Matt,” Vince interjected.

But Matt ignored him. “Father’s not an easy man, and the majority of his attention was always aimed at Vince.” Hero and Dante nodded but remained silent when Matt continued. “For as long as I can remember, he always stood between Father and us, took the attention off of the rest of us.”

My heart clenched at the rawness in Matt’s words. It painted a picture of Vince’s life that was starkly different from what I’d experienced. While my father was powerful and hard on the outside, he was the best father a girl could wish for. Losing our mom nearly broke him, and yet, he never once showed us anything but love and care.

Another reason why it was so difficult for me to break out of my current situation; well, that was until he agreed to Vince’s crazy proposition. I wouldn’t even in a million years have thought he would agree to something as humiliating, as completely ridiculous as an arranged marriage.

But maybe it was the push I needed to break free from family obligations and live the life I really wanted to live.

Even though it would hurt my dad more than anyone—which plain and simple sucked—and hurt me.

“And your mother?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation and my thoughts in another direction. I had almost no recollection of my mother—apart from a few memories that consisted of warm smiles and soft laughter, a stark contrast to the Salvini family dynamic.

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