Page 5 of Bitter Queen (Advantage Play 4)

The squeak of the hinges on the passenger door makes me jump as Diece tugs it open then offers his hand for me to take.

“Please?” he repeats.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I fight off the urge to run. Then I slip out of the car without his help. The gravel crunches beneath his shoes as he steps back to give me plenty of space. With a glare, I cross my arms and wait for his next command.

Because they always demand more.

3

Diece

“Ladies first,” I mutter, motioning to the entrance of Matteo’s place.

With her chin to her chest and her eyes on the ground, she heads to the entrance. I follow behind her, then use the large gold knocker to announce our presence.

Matteo Moretti answers a few seconds later. The bastard stepped back from the family business when his father started strengthening their family’s connection with Burlone Allegretti. But he’s proven to be a friend of the Romanos when we’ve had our backs against the wall. And today is no different. His gaze lazily scans us both up and down before he steps back to allow us to enter his family’s summer house. The one that’s been vacant for years and belongs to one of Burlone’s associates. It’s the last place anyone would look for us. Especially Q’s enemies.

“Come on in,” he offers.

“Thanks.”

As we step inside, he replies, “Don’t mention it. Lou told me to pick up a few things before you got here. They’re in the west wing.”

Queena’s mouth twitches, hinting at her beauty, but she keeps her eyes on her hands and continues to wring them like a dirty dishrag.

“Something funny?” I ask in a low voice that’s only meant for her.

With a subtle shake of her head, she keeps her lips shut.

Shocker.

I sigh. “Q, this is Matteo. He’s…a friend of the family. Matteo, this is Q.”

“Nice to meet you,” Matteo replies, though I can almost see the wheels turning in his head as he scans her up and down another time. I don’t know what Kingston said to convince him to help us. And I have no idea if he knows that Q helped bring Kingston’s plan to fruition during the poker tournament at Burlone’s estate. The plan that led to Matteo’s uncle’s arrest less than forty-eight hours ago.

It’s not like they were on good terms, but he’s still a Moretti.

I do know one thing, though. He’s not an idiot, and if Kingston trusts him, then so do I.

Matteo might insist that he keeps his hands clean, but the bastard knows everything and everyone in this business. He might even know Q’s true identity.

But I sure as hell don’t.

After another moment of silence, Matteo decides, “Let me show you to your rooms.” Turning on his heel, he leads us up a set of dark, wooden stairs to the second floor that splits into two sections, one to my left and one to my right. There are two long, winding hallways at the top. Both appear to be lined with doors on each side as he guides us down to the left section of rooms. When we reach the end of it, Matteo pushes open the last door.

“Here we are. There’s a bathroom and a walk-in closet through that door.” He points to the door hidden at the back of the bedroom. “I used to have my groceries delivered, along with take-out, when I didn’t feel like cooking. The number is on the kitchen table on the main floor. Any questions?”

Q remains quiet and doesn’t even bother to look around. Annoyed by her lack of gratitude, and desperate for a minute to breathe outside of her presence, I rock back on my heels and answer, “I think we’re good. Q, why don’t you take a shower or something. I’ll be back in a few.”

Matteo and I exit the room, then I close the door behind me, but a panicked Queena wrenches it open almost instantly. Her chest is heaving, and her eyes are open wide in fear as she begs, “Please let me keep it open. I promise I won’t go anywhere, and I’ll do what you tell me. I just…I can’t….” She doesn’t finish her sentence but lets her voice trail off as she continues to hyperventilate right before my eyes.

I think it’s because there are far too many ways that she could finish that statement. She can’t function. She can’t deal with the shit she’s been through. She can’t trust anyone, let alone the guy who’s trying to protect her. She can’t do a lot of shit.

But instead of pointing out the obvious, I raise my hands in surrender and take a cautious step back to give her some space.

“Sure thing. It’s your room.” Then I follow Matteo to his security room on the opposite side of the house. I can feel her watching me before I round the corner, but I don’t bother to turn around and call her out for it. Besides, it’s not a crime to be curious. Hell, it proves she’s still alive. And sometimes, I think she needs a reminder.

As soon as I enter the security room, Matteo crosses his arms and gets right to the point. “So…who is she?”

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