Page 232 of Merciless Desires

The left opened, as I knew it would, and Matteo’s eyes widened when Annabella answered the door, not one of his hired staff.

“Marcella!” She yelled and wrapped her arms around me, attempting to tug me away from my fiancé, but Matteo’s grip simply tightened. “Papà said you wouldn’t be coming home. Are you coming home?”

“Visit,” Matteo muttered through gritted teeth.

“I’m just visiting, Annabella. I…I live with Matteo now.”

“With who?” My sister leaned away and tilted her head way back to stare up at Matteo. “You’re tall.”

Matteo chuckled.

He chuckled?

I was aware I didn’t know this man, but I was certain he didn’t like children. He just gave off that vibe. A child-hating underboss.

“I am,” he agreed.

“Cool.” Annabella grinned and walked away. Probably on her way to get a snack or something. My youngest sister was a bottomless pit, never satisfied, always moving.

“This is how your family greets their guests? Leaving the door wide open for anyone to wander in?” Matteo hissed as I stepped inside and closed the door behind us. And locked it.

“She’s eight, Matteo.”

“She shouldn’t be answering the door. There are people who are paid to do this.”

“Paid by you? Maybe it’s a shift change. I don’t know.”

“She could’ve been hurt.”

I turned a glare toward him. “Don’t say that. Don’t…say that.”

“I’m sorry, amorina, but it’s true. Your life has changed now that you’re mine. I need to make some calls to…figure shit out.” His hand slipped away from me, and he pulled his phone out.

“Oh, yeah. Um, you can go in Papà’s office.” I guided him toward the room that I was certain he had already been in.

I wanted to see if papà was in there, or if he would avoid me the entire time I was here. I hoped he was filled with guilt for what he had done, and especially for how he’d chosen to do it.

Papà wasn’t in his office. Matteo settled himself at Papà’s desk and brought his phone to his ear as I pulled the pocket doors together, closing them.

Annabella was grinning, about to walk up the stairs with chocolate gelato on her face.

“Anna…” I began, and my little sister turned to me with a frown. “Let me clean your face.”

She pulled her frown even deeper, but she followed me into the first-floor bathroom.

“He’s cute, Marcella,” she whispered, peering past my shoulder as if Matteo could be standing there.

I didn’t bother to turn around. He was probably too busy yelling at someone on the phone about the fact that Annabella had the nerve to answer the door because one of his goons wasn’t there to do it for her.

“You’re too young to think boys are cute.”

“Am not! I have a boyfriend, you know.” Annabella crossed her arms.

“Oh, yeah? What’s his name?”

Annabella’s cheeks reddened. “Fredrick.”

“Fredrick?” I ran a washcloth under warm water.

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