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I stepped into the air-conditioned foyer and took a quick glance around. His home had distinct old money grandeur. The warm, dark-tones gave off a comforting vibe when I was expecting cold and sterile.
“Right this way, Miss Rias.” The man gave me a wide berth and beckoned for me to follow him. “Just call me Elena, please. When you say my name like that it makes me feel old.”
Garnering no response, I silently trailed behind him, taking note of the gun holstered on the back of his slacks. My heels click-clacked on the shiny wooden floor.
I looked around again, feeling as if I were being watched, but I didn’t see anything or anyone else. He led me down a hall and paused outside a pair of dark oval doors. “Please have a seat.”
After pointing to a set of upholstered chairs, he disappeared into the room beyond, opening one door just wide enough for him to squeeze through. I got a brief eyeful of four men in dark suits before it was closed again.
Rolling my neck to the ceiling to loosen some of the knotted tension, I went to sit. A man’s shrill cry of pain had me standing right back up. Before I could take a single step away from whatever was going on in the next room, both doors swung open and the man in question was shoved into the hall.
He landed on his knees in a state of disorientation. His suit was wrinkled, one cufflink torn. I stared at his hand cupping a bleeding nose; the bones were at an unatural angle beneath the skin.
“Get him out of my house.”
Mateo calmly demanded, looking down at the guy with a neutral expression on his face.
Two of the men I’d just seen each grabbed an arm and began dragging the man down the hall.
The third gave Mateo a tight-lipped smile, muttered something under his breath, and rushed after them, fear leaking from his pores.
I continued staring even when they vanished from sight.
“Elena.” Mateo called my name softly, summoning my attention.
“Is this…how you always greet your guests?” I asked, turning my head to look at him.
“I didn’t expect you to be on time. I apologize.”
I found that highly inconceivable considering who he was but the brig
ht smile he aimed my way rapidly diminished my discomfort.
Not in a suit, but a simple black button-down with the sleeves partially rolled back and a pair of slacks, he looked even better than he had the last time I saw him. Though it was impossible for me not to imagine what was underneath.
I bit back the urge to ask what I had just witnessed. It was none of my business, and I knew better than to speak on it. That was one of the saving graces about being partially raised around such things. I knew how to keep my mouth shut. My mother and father may have showered me with all the love and affection a girl could hope for, but neither of them was anything close to a saint.
I remembered many scenes just like this one occurring outside my father’s office when he thought Eva and I were sleeping, so as far as I was concerned, I saw nothing.
Mateo’s eyes roamed over me from head to toe, slowly taking me in. I’d chosen to skip wearing the revealing blue dress I’d initially picked out, going with a simple black one instead with lace quarter sleeves, a silk bodice, and a slightly flared skirt, paired with red bottoms.
It meant I wouldn’t have to worry about my ass cheeks or the ugly jagged scar on my left thigh making an appearance.
The mark was the result of a locker room incident my senior year of high school, coupled with the two on my wrists they served as a permanent reminder of a dark era I went through. He had yet to ask me about them, and I’d rather save that conversation for never.
“Bonita,” Mateo murmured as he finished making his appraisal. His eyes found their way back to mine. “Beautiful,” he translated for me.
“Thanks, you look…nice too,” I finished lamely, offering him a small smile.
“Your house is gorgeous.”
“I’m glad you think so, I plan for you to be here much more often. I’ll have to give you a tour. Are you ready?” he asked, passing off a white cloth to the man who let me in the house.
“As ready as you are,” I answered, following the movement with my eyes, diverting my gaze when I saw the blood he’d he’d just wiped from his knuckles that clearly wasn’t his.
“Good.” He flashed me another grin, showing a set of teeth that belonged in Colgate commercials. “Come with me.”
Those three words could have easily been misconstrued as a double entendre. Almost every word out of his mouth sounded like it was meant for seduction and sex.
