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He tackled me to the ground, making me land on my back with a loud thud. He instantly got between my legs and pinned my hands above my head.
“You are not fighting!” He yelled again while I tried to struggle my way free, kicking my legs, twisting and turning my torso. “Use all the anger you have inside. Use that hate you feel for me. Use it all and fight the fuck back!”
He held my hands up with one of his in a grip so tight I was sure I would be bruised tomorrow. His free hand started assaulting my body as if he was the man he pushed me to envision.
“Fight my hands away from you, Francesca!” Matt pulled my tank top up, trying to mimic a real sexual assault, but my head wasn’t in that place. I couldn’t picture Matt like that as hard as I tried, but still, I tried to fight him off.
“You are being weak. Don’t let me win. FIGHT ME!” His hips thrust forward into me. I could feel he didn’t have an erection, this wasn’t sexual. He was really in training mode, but the more he felt of my body, the harder I felt him get.
“I’m getting away with whatever I want. DON’T LET ME. FIGHT BACK!” He shouted to my face again, grinding his already partially hardened cock into my craving pussy.
“FIGHT THE FUCK BACK, FRANCESCA!” He shouted again, and I felt every damn word vibrate against my skin.
“I. DON’T. WANT TO!” I finally broke, yelling back with all my might. The words left the depths of my soul without permission. Matt’s grip loosened a little as soon as my words hit his ears. He wasn’t prepared for the rawness in my tone. For the truth hiding behind my trembling voice.
I took the release provided by his perplexion and pushed him off me, standing and heading straight to the penthouse, not daring to look back.
Matt had managed to mess with my head, digging deep into my mind, exposing the truth without leaving any doubt about it.
I wanted him. Despite everything that happened, I irrationally wanted him.
And now he knew.
Chapter 21
Matt
The trip to California with my Grandfather went smoothly, exactly as predicted.
It took longer than I would wish it had. Don Lorenzo Massimo was giving up his seat in The Commission to his grandson, Vincenzo. It was long overdue, ever since his father, Arturo Massimo, had been killed by the Colombian Cartel over three years ago. All the festivities plus tradition took up more time than I wanted to dispense. But finally, we were in the jet going back home.
Something could happen to Francesca while I was away, and I’d be all the way on the other side of the country, helpless and useless to protect her.
If the Yakuza was watching, they knew perfectly well that I was out of town, and that just made my wife a lot more vulnerable.
There’s no one in this world I trusted more than my grandfather, Don Giancarlo Battaglia. The ruthless mob boss everyone else turned to when they had any issue, when they needed advice. He was my real father figure since my father had privileged his career over us, especially over me.
He raised me, taught me everything I knew, brought me into this life that I so deeply loved, that so darkly painted my heart.
He was staring at me. I could feel his glare burning the side of my face, just waiting for my reaction, waiting for my blood to boil enough to spill.
I was just like him. My controlled temper and calm manner weren’t innate. They were taught. He had molded me to his image, and in the end, we were very much alike.
He didn’t have to speak for me to know what that glare meant. I knew the questioning half-frown he had plastered on his face, and I also knew I was much more on edge than I’d ever been in my entire life.
“What do you want to know?” I finally asked, rolling my eyes in fake annoyance, my fingers wrapping tightly around the third glass of Macallan since take off, waiting for the blow.
“Nothing you don’t already want to tell me,” he replied with that stern look he always sported.
I sighed deeply, trying to figure out where I should start.
“Francesca received a note with the Naoki symbol on it saying they were coming for her. She says she doesn’t know anyone in the Yakuza, so I have no idea who is after her or why. I’m worried something might happen while I’m out of town.”
“And what else?” He knew me better than to fall for half-truths. He was a master at reading people, and I was a book he knew by heart.
“Someone drugged me at Dea Tacita. All clues lead to Gio, and…” I took a deep breath before I resumed, thinking about what that fucker’s actions had been costing me since, hopefully not permanently. “Francesca walked in, and apparently there was some blonde with her head buried between my legs.”
“Oh. And she’s bothered by what she saw?”
