Chapter 3 - The Threat Unspoken
The quiet inside the top-floor office was suffocating. Outside the expansive glass windows, rain began to patter rhythmically against the glass, blurring the city skyline into a sea of grey shadows. Inside, the tension was so dense that every breath Elena took felt like inhaling broken glass.
"I am not giving you a name," Elena said, her voice steady despite the sheer terror clawing at her throat. She gripped her tablet tighter, staring directly into his dark irises. "My personal life is completely separate from my work at Duca Tower. You have no legal or personal right to demand information about who I spend my evenings with."
Matteo let out a low, dark sound that was dangerously close to a chuckle. He took another step forward, closing the distance between them until he was standing directly over her, towering over her smaller frame.
"Legal rights?" he repeated softly, the mockery in his voice chilling her to the bone. "Elena, do you honestly believe the rules of the legal world apply inside this room? Do you think I built this empire by respecting boundaries?"
"You respect my boundaries," she shot back fiercely. "For eighteen months, we have had a professional relationship. I run your schedule, I handle your legal documentation, and I keep your corporate image spotless. That is where my obligations to you begin and end."
Matteo leaned down, his face inches from hers. She could feel the radiating heat of his skin, could smell the sharp, metallic tang of his cologne mixing with the scent of fresh rain coming through the air vents.
"Eighteen months," he murmured, his dark eyes searching every feature of her face with obsessive detail. "Eighteen months of watching you walk into this office every morning. Eighteen months of watching you sit at that desk, listening to your voice, watching the way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you're concentrating on a legal brief. Do you really think I kept you here just because you're good with spreadsheets?"
Elena's breath hitched sharply. The admission hung between them, heavy and unalterable.
"Matteo..."
"I let you keep your little fantasy of normalcy," he continued, his tone dropping into a possessive whisper that made her shiver. "I let you pretend that you were just an ordinary assistant working for an ordinary CEO. I stayed behind my desk, I kept my hands to myself, and I gave you the space you needed because I thought you were safe under my roof. I thought no one would dare touch what belonged to me."
His gaze dropped to her neck, his eyes darkening to a shade of near-black.
"And then you walk in here with another man's mark on your skin."
"It was a mistake!" the words spilled from her lips before she could stop them. "It wasn't... I don't care about him! It was a single dinner!"
Matteo caught the slip instantly. His eyes snapped back to hers, sharp as a razor.
"A single dinner," he echoed quietly. "So it's someone you know. Someone local. Someone stupid enough to put his hands on my assistant."
Elena bit her lip hard, cursing herself silently. She had given him a piece of the puzzle, a breadcrumb that his vast network of enforcers could easily follow.
"Leave it alone, Matteo," she pleaded, dropping the professional coldness, her voice laced with genuine desperation. "Please. It meant nothing. He means nothing to me."
"If he meant nothing to you, why did you let him touch you?" Matteo demanded, his hand rising to firmly grasp the edge of the desk behind her, trapping her between his arms. He didn't touch her skin, but his proximity was a physical barrier she couldn't escape. "Why did you let him put his mouth on you, Elena? Did you enjoy it? Did you like having his hands on you?"
The sheer, unbridled jealousy radiating from him was terrifying, yet beneath the fear, a strange, electric heat flickered deep in her belly. She hated herself for reacting to it, hated the way her pulse quickened under his intense, possessive stare.
"He grabbed me before I could react," she confessed softly, looking down at his white dress shirt, unable to maintain eye contact with the intense fire in his eyes. "I pushed him away immediately. I told him never to contact me again. That is the absolute truth."
Matteo remained silent for a long, agonizing moment. She could feel his heavy gaze resting on the top of her head, could hear the deep, measured rhythm of his breathing.
Slowly, gently, his hand moved from the desk. His long fingers lifted, gently hooking under her chin, forcing her face up until she was forced to look at him once again.
"If you pushed him away," Matteo murmured, his thumb lightly stroking her lower lip, "then he forced himself upon you."
"No! It wasn't like that—"
"He touched you without your permission," Matteo cut her off, his voice dropping into a register of cold, absolute malice that made her blood run cold. "He left a mark on skin that belongs to me. He made you feel unsafe."
"Matteo, listen to me—"
"I don't need to listen to anything else," Matteo said smoothly, stepping back and pulling a sleek black smartphone from his pocket. He tapped the screen twice, lifting the device to his ear. "Dominic."
"No! Matteo, don't!" Elena lunged forward, reaching out to grab his wrist, trying to pull the phone away from his ear.
Matteo didn't even flinch. He easily caught her wrist in his free hand, holding her securely without hurting her, wrapping his long fingers around her bones like a velvet cuff. He held her close against his chest, her heart hammering wildly against his ribs as he spoke into the phone.
"Dominic," Matteo said calmly, his eyes locked on Elena's panicked face. "Check Elena's personal phone records for the last forty-eight hours. Cross-reference any recent calls or texts with local restaurant reservations under her name. I want a full profile, address, and routine on whoever she dined with two nights ago. You have thirty minutes."
"Matteo! Stop it! Let me go!" Elena cried out, twisting against his grip.
"Understood, boss," Dominic's voice answered clearly through the speaker before the line went dead.
May you like
Matteo lowered the phone, slipping it back into his pocket, but he did not let go of her wrist. He held her firmly against him, his chest rising and falling in steady, powerful movements.
"You are going to stay in this office with me," Matteo whispered, his dark eyes burning with ruthless triumph. "And when Dominic brings me the name, you are going to watch how I deal with men who touch what is mine."
