“You realize you’re overreacting,” she finally says.
I say nothing. There’s a pause.
“I was gone for, like, twenty minutes. And I only did it because I needed a break. Those two have been following me all day,” she explains.
Still silence. She exhales, sharper this time.
“You could at least say something. You’re not five years old and the silent treatment is completely immature.”
I don’t speak. My grip on the wheel tightens slightly, the only outward sign that I hear her.
“You’re such a dick,” she mutters before crossing her arms over her chest and staring out her window, effectively ignoring me.
By the time we reach the hotel, she’s just as angry as I am, which suits me perfectly. I pull up to the entrance, killing the engine. Lindsay’s out of the car before I can even move, closing the door with more force than necessary.
I step out a second later and I follow. Her jaw remains shut as I step into the elevator behind her. She stands a few feet away, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the numbers as they climb. The same way the tension between us is.
The doors open and she steps out first, walks down the narrow corridor. The penthouse door unlocks, then swings open. She enters without looking back.
I walk in after her, the doors closing behind me with a soft click. She drops her bag onto a table, finally turning toward me.
“Are you done with your tantrum?” she asks.
I don’t answer. I just look at her, at the bruise still faintly visible at her temple. I think about the fact that she almost died. And I’m not done being angry. Not even a little bit.
“You will not do that again. Not ever again.”
She reels back at my tone. There’s nothing soft about it. Then her eyes narrow.
“I don’t take orders from you, Matteo.”
“You will,” I retort. “Because this is in your best interest. I’m trying to keep you alive!”
“I wasn’t in danger!”
“You do not get to decide that. Do you have any idea what could have happened? This isn’t a joke, and I’m sure you’re well aware of that. You’d be dead by now if I hadn’t been there on Saturday, do you understand that?”
“I do understand that, actually. Why do you care if I die or not?” she questions, her voice hard.
Because I won’t lose you.
The thought comes fast and unwelcome. I don’t say it.
Silence stretches between us, tight and unforgiving. I take a step closer to her. Not aggressive, not hesitant. Just enough to close the distance.
“This is the last time I’m going to say this, princess. You don’t get to take risks like that with your life,” I say lowly. “Not now, not ever.”
Her breath catches. Just slightly, but I hear it.
“Noted,” she says quietly.
The word settles between us. I should leave. That’s the logical next step. Walk away. Put some distance between this, whatever it is, and everything else that actually matters.
I don’t.
She’s still standing there, watching me like she’s waiting for something. Or maybe daring me. My gaze drops briefly to her mouth. A mistake.
I look away immediately but it’s too late. It’s been burned in my mind. My jaw tightens and I exhale slowly.
