Page 124 of Phantom Mine

His voice is thick with menace and something else, something like the remnants of what must have been a bad cold. Deranged possessiveness sends a thrill through me at the thought that he had a virus I gave him inside him when he met her.

I realize I may need to be institutionalized for that thinking.

Clearly, I’ve fuckinglostit.

“Did you hit your pretty little head over the weekend and sustain some kind of major brain damage that made you forget I specifically forbade you from ever setting foot on a fucking stage again?”

I glare at him. “I didn’t.”

His jaw ticks. He hums, a low, dangerous rumble from deep within his chest. His finger still dances across the bare skin of my neckline, hovering alarmingly close to my throat.

“So you were in the mood to see just how far you could test my patience today?”

“No.”

Dark, livid eyes cut to me. “Then why?”

I tip my chin at him. “The rule no longer applies.”

“Explain,” he snaps, his temper breaking.

His voice is different now.

Deadly.

Emotionless.

“We’re done,” I announce, although the words nearly kill me. “The fun is officially over.”

A bone-chilling laugh leaves him, one so devoid of humor it echoes with pure madness alone. He smiles coldly, his teeth bared and sharp. “That decision is not yours to make.”

It wasn’t.

“And yet I made it,” I answer flippantly.

Matteo’s hand flies to my throat. All five fingers wrap around my neck and squeeze. A throttled vein I’ve never seen before carves itself down the middle of his forehead.

“Careful,cara,” he warns, his mouth thinned down to a violent slash across his face.

An ache hollows out my chest seeing the tightness in his eyes. I harden my heart against it.

“Go be with your fiancée,” I snap.

“My—?” he frowns. “What the fuck does she have to do with anything? What did Enzo tell you?”

It’s my turn to laugh at the situation. So he was going to keep this a secret from me.

“He told me the truth, which you clearly weren’t planning on doing.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I warned you what would happen the second you touched her.”

Matteo’s features relax momentarily, the first sign of anything but frustration and anger since he walked in. His brow arches in surprise, his lips twitching with barely concealed satisfaction.

“Are you jealous?” he asks.

Anger snaps my spine straight until I feel every vertebrae lock into place. “No.”

“Really?”

“It’s a matter ofrespect, Matteo, that’s it. I won’t let you humiliate me.”

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