Chapter 19: FIRE IN THE SHADOWS
The storm had passed by morning, but Elena felt as though she was still standing in the eye of it. Sleep had never come. She had lain awake replaying every second of the night before: Matteo’s touch, his forehead against hers, the brush of his lips that wasn’t quite a kiss. And the interruption that had left her both relieved and furious.
By noon, the mansion was a hive of activity. Men in dark suits moved quickly through the halls, their conversations low and urgent. Something had happened, something more than the storm.
Elena found Matteo in the study, leaning over a map spread across the desk. His jaw was tense, his eyes sharp, his presence radiating command.
"What’s going on?" she asked, stepping into the room.
He didn’t look up. "You should be in your room."
"I’m tired of being kept in the dark."
His pen stilled, but he still didn’t raise his head. "Last night, while I was upstairs, there was an attempt on our property. Two cars, masked men. They didn’t get far."
Her heart lurched. "An attack?"
"Yes." His tone was clipped. "A message from a rival family. They wanted me distracted."
"Distracted by what?"
Finally, his eyes met hers, and the weight of his gaze was unbearable. "By you."
Elena froze. "Me?"
"You’re not stupid," Matteo said quietly. "They know you’re under my roof now. That makes you leverage."
Her throat tightened. "So I’m just bait?"
"No." He moved around the desk, closing the distance between them. "You’re not bait. You’re a target. And that changes everything."
She swallowed hard. "You should have told me."
"I am telling you."
"No, Matteo." Her voice rose with frustration. "You should have told me before. From the start. Instead of keeping me locked up like some... some fragile decoration."
His eyes narrowed. "You think that’s what I’m doing? Protecting you like a decoration?"
"Yes," she snapped. "Because you don’t trust me. Because you think I can’t handle the truth."
He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "You’re right. I don’t trust you. Not yet. But not because you can’t handle the truth. Because the truth could destroy you."
"Or maybe it’s you who’s afraid," she shot back. "Afraid that if I see too much, I’ll finally run."
The silence that followed was sharp as glass. Matteo’s eyes burned into hers, his jaw tight, his breath heavier than before.
"You won’t run," he said finally. "Not anymore."
Elena’s chest tightened. "You sound awfully sure of yourself."
"I am." His voice dropped, almost a whisper. "Because you didn’t tell me to leave last night. And because I felt the way you held on to me."
Heat flooded her face, though she refused to look away. "That was a mistake."
"Then let’s make the same mistake again," he murmured, stepping so close she could feel the heat of him.
Her hands curled into fists at her sides. "You’re impossible."
"And you’re addicted," he countered. "Addicted to fighting me, addicted to feeling something you can’t control. Just admit it."
Before she could respond, the door burst open. A man in black rushed in, breathless. "Boss, we found one of them. The attackers. He’s alive."
Matteo turned sharply. "Where?"
"In the basement. He’s asking for you."
Matteo gave a short nod before glancing back at Elena. His eyes softened for the briefest moment. "Stay here."
"No." Her voice cracked like a whip. "If this is about me, I deserve to hear it too."
Matteo stared at her, weighing the risk. Then, to her surprise, he nodded once. "Fine. But don’t speak unless I tell you to."
The basement was cold, dimly lit, and carried the damp smell of stone. A man sat tied to a chair in the center, his face bruised, his eyes wild with defiance.
Matteo approached with lethal calm. "Who sent you?"
The man spat blood on the floor. "You know who."
Matteo’s eyes narrowed. "Say it."
The man smirked. "The Giannis family. They say you’re getting weak. Hiding behind a pretty girl instead of handling business."
Elena flinched at the words, but Matteo didn’t react. His voice was ice. "And what were you supposed to do with her?"
The man laughed, hollow and cruel. "Deliver her. Alive. They said she’d be more useful breathing."
Elena’s stomach turned, fear prickling her skin. Matteo’s hand tightened into a fist, but he didn’t strike. Instead, he leaned in close to the prisoner.
"Go back to your boss," Matteo said softly, "and tell him that if he touches what’s mine, I’ll burn his world to ash."
The man sneered. "You think she’s yours? Women don’t stay with men like you. They escape."
Matteo’s voice sharpened. "She’s not escaping."
Elena’s heart twisted at the words, equal parts fury and something she didn’t dare name.
Matteo straightened, his expression hard. "Take him out of my sight."
Two guards dragged the man away, his laughter echoing down the corridor.
Elena finally spoke, her voice trembling. "So that’s it? You just let him walk?"
Matteo turned to her, his expression unreadable. "No. I sent him with a message. He won’t live to deliver it."
She stared at him, horrified. "You’re... you’re a monster."
He stepped closer, his eyes dark, his voice raw. "And yet you can’t look away from me."
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. "I don’t know what’s worse. That you’re right or that I don’t want you to be."
Matteo’s hand hovered near hers, not quite touching. "Then stop lying to yourself. Stop fighting what we both know is already there."
The air between them pulsed with danger and desire, the storm outside replaced by one inside her chest.
"I can’t," she whispered.
"Yes, you can." His voice was almost gentle now. "But you won’t. Because you’re mine, Elena. Whether you admit it or not."
For a moment, she wanted to deny it, to scream, to run. But instead, she found herself trembling, not from fear, but from the unbearable truth.
And when he finally turned and walked away, leaving her in the cold basement, she realized that the fire inside her wasn’t dying. It was growing.