Page 50 of Keeping My Captive

Aria

I’M IN THE kitchen angrily eating a piece of bread and glaring at Mateo — or as I now call it, my new favorite pastime. I still can’t believe I willingly offered my virginity to him last night. It all feels like a strange, vivid dream. But when I clench my thighs together, I can still feel him down there, and I know it wasn’t a dream at all.

And when the bastard looks in my direction, he gets an indecipherable look on his face. His eyes are dark and hooded as if he’s remembering being inside of me. And when he licks his lips, my core clenches when I think about how his mouth was on me…down there…only several hours before.

I gasp, almost choking on the bread in my mouth. Coughing, I stand up and scamper out of the kitchen, leaving him and my dirty thoughts behind.

I need space. I need time to think. I need… Well, I don’t know what the hell else I need, but I know that I definitely need to get away from Mateo for a while.

So I lost my virginity. Big deal, right? But the more I think about it, the more of a big deal it actually becomes. I didn’t just lose my virginity last night. I voluntarily gave it up to my captor. The very man who is holding me hostage.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask out loud as I round the corner and run smackdab into the middle of a hard chest. I bounce backwards, barely managing to catch my balance and save myself from falling.

“Did I do something to offend you?” a deep voice with a thick Spanish accent asks.

When I look up, I see someone who looks like an older version of Mateo. In fact, they could almost pass for father and son, but I know that Mateo’s father is dead. He told me before that his family was murdered, so who could this man be who looks almost like a carbon copy of him? “I’m sorry. I was…talking to myself,” I admit.

“Oh. Then you did something to offend yourself?” he asks with a smirk. He runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair, which is gray at the temples, as his dark brown eyes study my face.

I shift my weight nervously from foot to foot, feeling suddenly very vulnerable under his heavy, scrutinizing gaze. I open my mouth to answer him, but then I hear Mateo call out, “Domingo,” from down the hall. Mateo approaches us, his intense gaze glued to me for an instant before he plasters a forced smile onto his face and greets the man I now know as Domingo. “I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow.”

“What? I can’t visit my nephew a day early?” he asks with a strained grin.

So, this is Mateo’s uncle. Why do they seem to be forcing their affection towards each other then? I don’t understand the mechanics of their relationship, but even an outsider can feel the obvious tension in the air between them.

“Introduce me to your new…friend,” Domingo says, emphasizing the last word while turning his attention back to me.

“This is Aria,” Mateo offers. “She was just going to her room,” he says, narrowing his eyes on me.

I know better than to make a scene or question him right now. Instead, I nod in agreement and practically run away from the two of them towards our bedroom.

When I finally reach the safety of the room, I close the door behind me. Something isn’t sitting well in my stomach after meeting Mateo’s uncle. The way he looked at me. The way they spoke with each other. The overwhelming sense of tension between them. And the way Mateo said about me going tomyroom as if we don’t sleep in the same one.

Something’s not adding up, and I intend on finding out the truth.

CHAPTER37

Aria

I’M GETTING READY for dinner with Mateo’s uncle. Mateo told me to “dress demurely” — his words, not mine. A defiant part of me wants to find the raciest dress in my closet and put it on, but I’m afraid of the consequences from defying Mateo, especially when he’s in a bad mood. And he’s been in a terrible mood ever since his uncle arrived.

As I look through my clothing options, I have so many unanswered questions in my head. Mateo had mentioned before about his parents and sisters being murdered. How did Mateo and his uncle survive an obvious attack on their family? Why is there so much friction between the two of them? And why is his uncle here now?

Frowning, I pick out a dusty rose A-line scoop neck chiffon cocktail dress and slip it over my head. It’s knee length, and I won’t be showing too much cleavage, so I’m sure it’s about asdemureas it can get. My makeup and hair are already done, so I just need to find a pair of shoes to match, and I’ll be ready to go downstairs for dinner, which will no doubt prove to be volatile but hopefully insightful.

I settle on gold, lace-up heels and put them on my feet, carefully crisscrossing the tie-up laces up my legs before securing the ends in bows to make sure they stay put.

I’m tying the final bow when the bedroom door opens and Mateo walks in. He’s dressed in a black suit with a black shirt and black tie. He’s the literal definition of tall, dark and handsome, and I have trouble tearing my eyes away from him. He has a pissed off look on his face; but as soon as his eyes find me, his entire demeanor changes.

I watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows hard. His dark eyes scorch my skin as he stares intently, looking me up and down and taking in every single detail. “What are you wearing?” he asks, his voice suddenly turning dangerous.

“What? You told me to dressdemurely,” I say, dragging out the last word and mimicking him. “This is about as modest as I can get.”

His eyes drift down to my feet. “You look like a pretty package begging to be unwrapped.”

I stare down at my heels. “Do you have a foot fetish or something?” I ask him with a cocked brow.

“I didn’t before tonight.” He rubs his thumb across his bottom lip. “Seeing any part of you tied up does strange things to me, Aria,” he confesses.

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