Page 44 of Raziel
Alessia looked pleased. I knew what she was doing—trying to make sure no single women lingered near her man.
Dinner was announced.
The mahogany table was set like a magazine spread—crystal, china, candelabras.
And one empty seat beside Matteo.
“Maya,” Alessia said sweetly, “why don’t you sit there?”
Right beside her cousin.
Matteo stood, pulling out my chair with a dimpled smile.
He kissed the back of my hand like he thought it’d do something to me.
It didn’t.
I sat. Smiled. Shot a glance at Raziel.
His jaw was tight. His gaze, locked on his plate.
The appetizers came. Matteo talked. He was charming. Educated. Full of himself in a harmless way.
I laughed in the right places. I even leaned in a little. Just enough for Raziel to see.
And I felt him watching.
Every move.
Every breath.
Matteo said something about his villa in Naples and his mother’s obsession with roses.
I nodded. “That sounds beautiful.”
Matteo reached for the wine.
Another buzz.
I’m going to fuck you sore later tonight if you keep this shit up.
I nearly choked on my water.
Matteo leaned over. “You okay?”
I smiled. “Just fine.”
When the entrées were served, Alessia raised a toast.
Something about tradition and family and growing stronger together.
I was too busy imagining Raziel storming across the table, flipping it, and dragging me out by my wrist.
He looked about ready to do it.
Chapter sixteen- Raziel
Alessia had moved the party outside to the Olympic-sized swimming pool. I stood by the glass doors, whiskey burning a hole in my palm, watching Maya.
