Page 69 of Stolen Queen

So I deliberately left behind the new ID and phone Matteo gave me. He and Elio were so focused on their argument that I was able to sneak by them and out the door without them noticing. I imagine Matteo will be angry when he discovers I’m gone. I hope he understands that I’m doing this for him. He’s shown me so much patience and kindness. I’ve had a lifetime of experiences in the few weeks I’ve been with him. Experiences I’ll remember forever.

I pushoff the building and continue up the street, sending up a silent prayer that Matteo will forgive me for leaving. I venture into the dark streets of Chicago, not sure where I am or how to get home. The bustling city that once seemed full of promise now looms threateningly around me.

My eyes dart nervously from face to face as I pass strangers on the sidewalk. Does anyone recognize me? Are my father's men lurking in the shadows, waiting to drag me back home? I’d rather return on my own, but perhaps one of his men will find me and take me there.

I scan the area, looking for a familiar landmark. Suddenly, I remember the club where Matteo found me all those weeks ago. If I can find my way back there, maybe I can use it asa reference point to navigate home. I believe it’s close by. But which direction? The streets all look the same in the darkness.

I continue walking, hoping my instincts are right. But as the minutes pass, nothing seems familiar. I could be walking in circles for all I know.

I approach a man standing outside a restaurant. "Excuse me. Could you please give me directions to?—"

"Well, hello there, beautiful.” His eyes rove over me in a way that makes my skin crawl. "Why don't you come inside with me? I'll buy you a drink."

I take a step back, alarm bells ringing in my head. "No, thank you. I just need directions."

He moves closer, backing me against the wall. "Come on, don't be like that. A pretty little thing like you shouldn't be out here alone."

My breath catches in my throat. "Please, I need to go.”

But he doesn't listen. His hand reaches out, gripping my arm tightly. "Why don’t you join me in my office?” He tugs me around the corner into an ally.

Panic floods through me as I struggle against his grip. This can't be happening. I try to scream, but fear has frozen my voice.

His other hand clamps over my mouth, muffling any sound I might make. "Shh, don't make a scene.”

Tears spring to my eyes as the full weight of my situation hits me. I'm in real danger, and there's no one here to save me. Not my father's guards, not Matteo. I'm completely alone.

"Get your fucking hands off her."

Relief floods me. Matteo.

"This is none of your business, pal," the man snarls.

Matteo steps closer, his eyes blazing with fury. "That woman is my business. And if you don't let her go right now, I'll make sure you never use those hands again."

There's no mistaking the threat in his words. Even in the dim light, I can see the color drain from my attacker's face as he realizes he's made a grave mistake.

"Hey… you’re one of D’Amato’s men… I didn't know she was with you," he stammers, releasing me and backing away. "We were just talking, that's all."

Matteo's laugh is cold and humorless. "Talking? Is that what you call assaulting a woman on the street?"

He moves with lightning speed, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him against the wall. "Let me make this very clear," Matteo growls, his face inches from the terrified stranger. "If I ever see you near her or any other woman again, you'll be begging for death by the time I'm done with you. Do you understand?"

The man nods frantically, his eyes wide with fear.

Matteo releases him with a shove. "Get out of my sight."

As the man scrambles away, Matteo turns to me. I’m ready to throw myself in his arms, so thankful he showed up when he did. He’s saved me yet again. What is that? Two? Three times now?

But I stop short when I see the fury blazing in his blue eyes. I think he’d like to throttle me just like he did to that man.

Instinctively, I take a step back. I’m considering trying to run.

His lip curls up into a snarl. “Don’t you even think about running from me.”

26

MATTEO

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