Page 85 of Bellini Born
“Caught that, did you?” The smile on his face grew so wide it reached his eyes. Fingers tangling with mine, he tugged me toward the edge of the room. “Let’s go up to my office, where we can talk about it in private.”
It was more of a command than a suggestion, so there was little choice but to obey.
Ascending a set of stairs, we reached a door that required the same biometric authentication from Matteo to open it.
Once we were sealed inside, I pulled my hand out of his grasp, walking toward the two massive walls of windows that converged to create one corner of the office. One side overlooked the casino floor, while the other provided a view of the smaller room where the poker tournament was being held.
Inhaling through my nose, I turned around to face the man who’d brought me here. “You wanted to talk, so start talking. How long have you had your eye on Englewood?”
Matteo shook his head. “Come on, Summer. I know you’re smart enough to figure that out.”
I’d had my suspicions, sure, but his words confirmed thatIwas the motivation behind his sudden interest in that specific neighborhood.
“Okay, let’s try again. Why?”
One hand lifted to run through his perfectly styled hair, but messing it up only made him look even more gorgeous. “Because I’ve seen pictures of your apartment, and it makes me sick to my fucking stomach every time I think about you living there.”
My cringe was automatic. I would be the first to admit that the place was no better than a slum.
When I remained silent, Matteo continued, “While it’s my intention that you’ll never set foot in that zip code again,let alone that building, I can’t help but think you weren’t the first hard-working young person to be trapped by their circumstances. For you, it might’ve been crippling college debt and limited job opportunities that would allow you to put your degree to use. For others, it may be that childcare costs outweigh their earnings from one job, so they have to take on a second job to scrape together enough money for rent, let alone food for their children. Then there are those struggling under the burden of outrageously high medical bills while caring for a sick family member. The list of social injustices is endless. No one should have to live in squalor due to external factors beyond their control. So with you as my inspiration, I’m doing what I can to provide clean, safe, heavily subsidized housing for those in need.”
Note the time, because that was the exact minute I fell head-over-heels in love with Matteo Bellini.
Tears prickled at the back of my eyes, and my lower lip trembled. Voice weak, I said, “I’m still mad at you.”
He nodded, shoving both hands into his pants pockets as he stepped closer. “You should be.”
“But when you do shit like this, it makes it really hard to stay that way.”
With him standing only inches away, I could see the sincerity in his eyes when he replied, “I didn’t do any of this to earn your forgiveness. I did it because it was the right thing to do.”
The first tear rolled down my cheek. “Dammit, Matteo.”
His warm palms captured my face, and his thumbs wiped away the moisture. “Fuck,bella. It kills me to see you cry.”
I sniffled. “Then stop being so thoughtful and generous.”
“Don’t get things twisted up, Summer. A million good deeds won’t be enough to wipe the slate clean. I’m still a villain. It’s who I was born to be.”
I blinked furiously to clear my blurry vision. “I won’t pretend to know who you are when you step into the underworld you seem to rule. But I know who you are inhere.” My hand pressed over his rapidly beating heart. “The doting father, the philanthropist—” I pulled in a shaky breath before confessing, “The man I’ve fallen in love with.”
Dark brown eyes widened.
“Say that again.” His voice took on a rough edge.
Swallowing thickly, I held his gaze as I declared, “I love you, Matteo.”
Fingers tangled in my hair, forcing my head back so that he could drop his lips to the side of my neck. “Now in Italian,” he murmured against my skin.
“I—” A gasp tore up my throat when he sucked on the sensitive spot behind my ear. “I don’t know how.”
“Ti amo.” The beautiful words cast a warm glow over my soul.
“Ti amo,” I repeated, the foreign language sounding strange rolling off my tongue.
“Tiamo.” This time, Matteo uttered the sentiment with reverence, and I knew he was telling me that he felt the same way, that my love was returned.
I arched into his hold, pressing our bodies flush. “I need you.”
