Page 89 of Mafia King: Matteo
“Maybe this wedding is part of your scheme to obtain something. I know you’d never truly marry someone else,” Sophia nuzzles into my ear before she takes a sip of alcohol. “I’ve been your only lover over the years. It’s been off and on, but I know you always wanted me to be your queen.”
Her arms slide up my suit jacket.
“Sophia, I’m engaged. This is inappropriate.”
She chuckles and slides her foot up my leg. My God, she’s taken off her shoes. I’m unprepared for her hand to reach my cock, and between the smell of her overly pungent perfume and the fact that I never once considered her marriage material, my cock remains flaccid.
“What’s the matter? Do I need to get on my knees?”
“There will be no begging, Sophia. I am transferring you to our London office.”
She pulls away, and if her eyes could kill, I wouldn’t have to worry about dying from a bullet wound.
“It was implied. We’ve known each other for years. I gave you my virginity.”
“You took mine as well, if I remember correctly,” I reply calmly. Glancing around the room, I discover that some guests have been disturbed by her raised voice and are now looking in our direction.
I was never convinced she was a virgin. She knew too much at fifteen. A beautiful woman and an only child, her mother often looked in the other direction at her indiscretions. Sophia is self-centered. She’s used to getting what she wants as well.
She massaged my cock again, forcing me to grab her hand and place it on the table. “One more touch and you will lose a hand.”
Her eyes grow wide with shock. She begins to speak, but she has nothing to say.
“I’ve never been so humiliated in my life,” she finally spits out, dumping the cloth napkin on the floor as she stands.
I texted Alena to leave work now and have Vito bring her home. I don’t want her to be a sitting duck should Sophia return to the office.
Hearts can be pawns, but love is the ultimate checkmate.
Alena is my queen. I am her king.
CHAPTER 30
ALENA
Matteo arrives home earlier than expected. He blows in like a nasty head cold. He’s terse with one-word answers. He doesn’t look at me. I’m on pins and needles. This is the first time I’ve witnessed him in such a state.
What happened with Sophia? Did he eat? Did something happen? He wears a frown on his forehead, and the gruffness in his voice is intimidating.
Federico asks him if he’s hungry, and he says he has lost his appetite. He asks Federico to bring him a bourbon, and then he disappears into his study, ignoring me.
Gio storms past me. I give him a wide berth.
“What happened?”
“Not today.” He snags the bottle of Bourbon from Federico and follows.
The study door bangs shut, and the house is quiet again.
I turn to Federico for an explanation. He shrugs his shoulders. “It must be very bad. He might tell you when he’s ready, or he might not.” He shrugs and makes a plate of food.
I understand that there are situations where it’s best to keep me in the dark. However, tonight, it looks like it might have been more than a dinner with Sophia that pissed him off.
“He’s back from the city too soon to have eaten. He sent me a cryptic text to leave work and come home immediately.”
“More guards arrived on the estate before they pulled in,” he says.
“What does that mean?”
