Page 9 of Read This Before the Villain falls in Love with You

"I heard that!" Matteo calls out from beside the stairs.

"You're not leaving here tonight," I tell her flatly. "You're going to a bedroom upstairs. You're going to stay inside it. And you're not going to break anything else in this house."

"Does that cover your cousin's face?" she asks, tilting her head toward Matteo.

"Especially those," Matteo says. "I have a date next week. Sort of."

"Shut the fuck up, Matteo."

He grins through the bruise. "Yes, boss. Shutting up. Looking competent. Practicing my serious face."

Nora looks from Matteo to me and scoffs. "This whole place is a joke and your men are clowns. I don't care what you say, I'm not staying here."

Matteo tugs at his lapels. "The suits are custom. Italian wool."

"They look like garbage on you," she says simply.

I reach out and offer an open hand between us. It is a calculated gesture. The illusion of safety wrapped around an absolute command.

I point toward the wide staircase. "Take my hand and walk upstairs. I will take you up myself. Behave, and no one gets hurt. Fight me, and I throw you in the basement and lock the door."

Franco clears his throat. "Can someone help me up first?"

"No," Matteo says without looking at him. "Stay there and reflect on your poor defense choices."

She looks at my hand like it is a trap. Or a joke. Or both.

She takes a deliberate step back, chin lifting higher instead.

"Not a fucking chance," she says.

I drop my hand back down to my side. "Let's make this simple. You can sleep down here on the cold floor with the three guys you beat up, or you can go upstairs. Big bed, warm shower, and a lock on your side of the door. I'll even have someone bring you hot food."

Nora narrows her eyes, thinking it through. "And what do you get if I go upstairs?"

"Some peace and quiet so I can clean up the blood on my floor," I answer, gaze fixed on her face. "In the morning, we talk about what happens next. Right now, you take the warm room with the lock, or you sleep outside in the dirt. Pick one."

"Is there pasta?" Nora asks, her expression unreadable.

Matteo raises a hand. "Nonna made gnocchi before she went to sleep."

"Shut up, Matteo," Nora and I say at the exact same time.

Sal groans again from the stairs. "The floor is really cold, miss. Take the room."

"Nobody asked you, Sal," she says, though her eyes flicker toward the staircase.

She holds my gaze for three long seconds, weighing the illusion of choice I've just handed her. She knows it's a trap, but it's the only trap in the room with a bed and a lock.

Predictable. Give an arrogant negotiator the illusion of autonomy, and she walks straight into the cage herself.

She walks right past me with her head held high. "I'm taking the bedroom. And if anyone tries to turn that doorknob tonight, Moretti, I won't just break their nose. I'll smash their entire face in."

Chapter 3

NORA

They dragged me through those giant iron gates last night, cut the plastic ties off my wrists, and shoved me into a bedroom with three heavy deadbolts and a slide lock. I spent an hour testing the latches and staring down at the four-story drop to the gravel driveway below. Jumping meant broken ankles, and running from guards on ruined feet was stupid.