Page 92 of Seeking Vengeance

I could’ve maintained my elation if it weren’t for the last text.

Goddamnit, Layla, don’t do anything stupid.

Those six words hit hard, her judgment threatening to convince me I’m not worthy of happiness.

I fight against the potential downfall. Glare at the screen. Cling to the last vestiges of my pride until my self-respect slowly returns.

I’m tempted to reply. To tell her exactly how I feel about my despised position in the family with far more clarity than I did in our last conversation. I’m even inclined to answer the call she puts through seconds later just so she can hear the renewed confidence in my voice as I tell her about the possibility of me never returning to Portland.

But the allure isn’t worth instigating another fight. Or disrupting Matthew’s conversation.

I’m in love, not a masochist.

“You okay?” he whispers in my ear. “What happened?”

I lock my cell and shake my head. “Nothing.”

“It’s something.”

Lorenzo and Bishop continue their conversation as Matthew leans closer. “Is it your family again?”

I hate how he hits the bull’s-eye easily. I’m grateful for it, too.

My family has always been my destruction.

I never would’ve been painted a traitor if it weren’t for my despicable father using me in the first place. I wouldn’t have had the chance to drag my husband through the mud with me if we weren’t forced to marry. And I wouldn’t be here, ignoring the vibration of my sister’s continued calls, if my siblings didn’t make me feel like a leper.

But I guess that’s the silver lining.

Him.

Matthew.

They may be my ruin, but he’ll be my rise.

I won’t retreat from what we have because of Keira. I won’t continue to be conditioned to believe I’m unworthy of even a second of the heaven I feel when I’m with him.

“Talk to me, Layla. Tell me what’s going on.”

I turn into him, our lips a breath apart when I whisper, “You’re special to me.”

He inches back, his brows furrowing.

I’ve shocked him, and I guess it’s to be expected.

He’s spent all our shared time calling meamore mio, promising me his devotion, showing me his commitment. And this is the first I’ve given it in return.

“You’re going to do this to menow?” He places a hand on my upper thigh, his palm possessively sliding higher. “Here?”

Hunger ebbs off him, the fire beaming in his eyes.

I blush, my cheeks undoubtedly stained crimson as I turn away. “We’ll talk about this later.”

His fingers pause at the crotch of my panties. “We’re going to do a hell of a lot more than talk.”

“Stop it.” I shoot him a playful glare. “Pay attention to the conversation.” I jerk my chin at Lorenzo who talks to Bishop, the older man giving me a brief smile before asking Matthew something in Italian.

The three of them continue chatting while I ignore another call from Keira then turn off my cell. I won’t speak to her again. Not until I’m stronger. More immune.

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