Page 21 of Stolen Queen

He shrugs. “The way I see it, I saved you.”

“You saved me?” I think he’s playing word games with me.

“You were trying to escape your room again, but this time you fell. Lucky I was there or you could have broken your neck in the fall.”

The throbbing in my head suddenly makes sense, but it doesn't explain everything. A part of me wants to believe Matteo, but another part screams that this is exactly what my father warned me about. While our families aren’t at war, there is bad blood between my family and the D’Amatos. Is taking me some sort of revenge? Am I going to be a bargaining chip?

Matteo takes another step toward me.

"Stay back!" I shout, my voice shrill with panic. I grab the nearest object, a heavy crystal vase from the nightstand, and brandish it like a weapon. My hands shake, but I hold it firmly, ready to defend myself if necessary.

Matteo stops, his hands raised. He’s not afraid of me. No, he’s acting like I’m a skittish caged animal that he wants to reassure. "I'm not going to hurt you."

But his calm demeanor only fuels my fears. My mind races, conjuring up worst-case scenarios. He’s taken me for his own desires. Or he’s taken me at the order of Elio D’Amato.

"What do you want from me?" I ask.

“Nothing.”

“Then why am I here?”

He sighs. “I told you. I saved you.”

He takes a step closer, and I raise the vase higher. "Don't! Don't come any closer."

He stops, his blue eyes searching my face. "Why are you so afraid? You weren’t afraid when I saved you from yourself before. I promise, I'm trying to help you."

His words do little to reassure me. If anything, I'm more suspicious. What kind of person kidnaps someone and then acts like he did it to protect them?

"Help me? By locking me in a strange room? By keeping me from my family? How is that helping?" My mind whirls as I try to reconcile the Matteo before me with the man I thought I knew. The charming, dangerous figure who'd starred in my dreams. The one who'd shown me a glimpse of freedom that intoxicating night at the club.

But now, trapped in this room with him, I'm not sure what to believe. Did he really catch me when I fell? Or is this all part of some elaborate scheme?

He rolls his eyes, and I can feel frustration radiating off him. “Or maybe I should have let you fall unconscious to the ground to be found by your father's guards.”

Okay, so that wouldn’t be good. Assuming he’s right, I could have died. And if not, being found and brought to my father would lead to punishment I don’t want to think of.

As if he can read my fears, he says, "Or maybe I should have taken you back to your father myself. Get back in his good graces."

My stomach churns as I imagine the consequences. The loss of what little freedom I have would be the least of my worries. My father's temper is legendary, and I've already pushed him to the brink once. What would he do if he found out about this?

I lower the vase slightly. "You… you didn't tell him?"

Matteo shakes his head, his smirk softening into something almost… kind? "No, I didn't. But you see the problem we have now, don't you?"

I see my problem. Even so, I want to go home. It’s true that I’d rather be with the devil I know. “Thank you for helping me. I should go," I say, moving toward the door. "My family will be wondering where I am."

As I move past him, Matteo's hand shoots out, grasping my arm. His grip isn't painful, but it's firm enough to stop me. My pulse quickens, fear creeping back in.

"You can't leave," he says, his voice low and serious.

I try to pull away, but his grip tightens. "What do you mean?”

Matteo's blue eyes lock onto mine, intense and unreadable. "By saving you, I've put myself in a precarious situation with both our families.”

"That's not my problem," I insist, my voice stronger now. "I appreciate what you did, but I need to go home."

Matteo's jaw clenches. "It's not that simple, Ava. You apparently don’t understand.”

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