Page 74 of Torn By Fate

Matteo took a step toward me. I heard it in the shift of his weight as he closed the distance between us. The sound pulled me out of whatever paralysis had seized me, and I turned.

The gun came with me.

I pointed it at him.

The barrel trembled in my hand, barely, but I held it steady enough that he stopped moving.

His expression changed. It wasn’t fear because Matteo Salvatore did not feel fear, or if he did, he had trained himself out of it so thoroughly that the emotion was like an unused muscle.

His eyes moved from the gun to my face, and I watched him reassess me in real time.

I had made an unexpected move. I was no longer the piece he had positioned.

I wasn’t the pawn he used to his advantage anymore.

And I wouldn’t be discarded so easily.

After all, I had something he needed. Something he had been so desperate for.

Our bargain had been for mutual advantages.

“Serafina,” he warned, eyes hardening on me.

“Don’t,” I said. It surprised me how steady my voice sounded. “Don’t come closer.”

He didn’t.

Matteo stood there, perfectly still. “You’re making a mistake,” he said. Quiet. Controlled. The tone he used when he wanted you to believe he was being reasonable.

But the thing about Matteo was that he had never been truly… reasonable.

“Maybe I am,” I scoffed.

He raised his hands slowly, palms out, and his lips twitched into that arrogant smirk that was so achingly similar to his brother’s—the same curve of the mouth, the same lazy confidence.

But Adrian’s arrogance had always been tempered by something almost human, while Matteo’s carried nothing but depravity.

I saw it now. The evil in him. The rot that made him who he was.

I had missed it before because I had been too focused on surviving, too focused on hiding my truth instead of the man moving the pieces on the chessboard.

“Now, now,” he drawled, his voice dripping with casual amusement, like he was watching a child throw a tantrum. “This wasn’t part of our deal. You can’t kill me. I helped you.”

He didn’t look worried. Not even slightly. The weapon in my hand might as well have been a water gun to him.

Matteo didn’t think I was a danger. He had never thought I was one , not even when we bargained, and that was the miscalculation that could cost him everything.

“Put the gun down,” he ordered, expecting the same absolute compliance everyone else gave him.

My lips thinned, pressing into hard lines. “I should have known better than to make a deal with you.”

He chuckled, and the sound scraped against my nerves. God, I hated him. “You didn’t have a choice. I found out your truth, remember?”

My body went rigid, every muscle locked into place. “I always have a choice.”

“Not in this world.” He tilted his head, studying me. “Women like you are a commodity. You don’t get to make choices.” His voice dropped, colder now, the amusement hardening into something sharper, more dangerous. He was losing patience. “Now put the gun down. I won’t ask again.”

I didn’t put the gun down.