Page 123 of Phantom Mine

He releases me with an angry little shove and starts to leave, but I grip his forearm and stop him.

“If he’s allowed to move on, then so am I.”

“You should be,” Enzo agrees, looking over his shoulder at me. “But the man won’t listen to reason where you’re concerned. Provoking him like this is a bad idea.”

“Then I guess he’s not prepared for his new reality.” I release his arm with an irritated huff. “He’s going to have to get very used to seeing me with men who aren’t him.”

Just like I was the one to approach him, I’m the one who walks away, taking with me a scrambled head, a confused heart, and more bitterness and anger than I possibly know what to do with.

???

I sit at my vanity for a while, staring at my reflection and those of the dancers as they bustle back and forth behind me. One by one, they make their way home until only Aurora and I remain. She gives me a silent hug, wishes me a good night, and then she’s off, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Thoughts of Matteo and Marina consume me. I’ve never experienced jealousy like this before, the kind that feels like it’s rotting your insides and turning them black.

What makes it so much worse is the fact that I have no right to be mad at him. Not only has he always been honest with me, I also understand why he needs this engagement and eventualmarriage. As much as the thought of it turns my stomach, I really do understand it. I would do the same if that’s what it took to secure my revenge and future.

But it still hurts.

And I’m still angry.

An icy chill rolls down my spine, making me close my white robe more tightly around myself. There’s no use sitting here any longer. I just need to go home, take a long hot shower, pour myself a gigantic glass of wine, and try to forget about my heartache by watching someFriends.

With a heavy sigh, I stand and start clearing up my station. I open the vanity mirror and put away the makeup, brushes, and wipes I used.

I close it and gasp, startled.

In the mirror, Matteo appears above my right shoulder as silently as a ghost.

“You asked for me,cara mia.”

I whirl around, expecting him to be an illusion that disappears once I do, but he’s well and truly there. Standing tall, formidable, and in the flesh before me.

Is that why he’s here? Because I asked Enzo about him?

“It is,” he answers.

I didn’t realize I’d asked the question out loud.

My cheeks heat and I turn scarlet. Matteo makes a small noise of contentment at the way I blush, then steps lazily towards me. He reaches out his knuckles, scrapping them gently over my cheeks.

He’s always touching my face, stroking his fingers along my cheeks, or brushing strands of hair behind my ear. I’m used to a man’s touch being exclusively sexual with me, but this isn’t that. This feels almost loving. Gentle and caring beyond the purely physical.

No wonder my head and heart are a mess. Every action of his is in complete opposition to the truth.

His fingers trail over my jaw, down my neck, and to my white robe where they trace the lines of the overlapping fabric on my chest. His touch is deceptively soft, but his fingers shake as they stroke my skin.

It’s a warning. A threat.

To mistake it for a caress would be foolish.

“It’s good to see you,” he utters in a strangled murmur.

His words carry an unmistakable weight, as if coming straight from his heart. Barely veiled beneath them however, there’s taut, tightly coiled anger. He’s seething with perfectly controlled rage, levelheaded only on the surface.

When his eyes slice to me, they’re as black as a shark’s on the hunt.

“Tell me, Valentina…”

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