Chapter 4
I immediately left my seat and stood up.
"What the hell!" I shouted, turning around sharply.
The moment I saw that smirk on his lips, I felt an overwhelming urge to scratch it off his face. One of his hands was tucked into the pocket of his pants, while the other held a half-finished glass of whisky.
"I am not interested in you or your filthy games," I spat.
His smirk only deepened with my words. His eyes gleamed with both cruelty and amusement.
"This is just payback, my sweet Sera."
Every time he calls me "sweet Sera," something deep inside me flicks.
"And what if I am not the woman you think I am? What if you’ve locked up an innocent woman just because she looks like the ghost you can’t stop chasing?”
Matteo tilted his head and finished the drink without lifting his gaze from mine.
“Even if, by some miracle, you weren’t her, you still walked into my world. You saw something you shouldn’t have. That alone makes you mine to deal with,” he said in a low, dangerous tone.
A shiver ran down my body.
How am I supposed to escape this place, and especially him? Just how!
My fists clenched at my side. Slowly, my patience was slipping away.
"Just because you are rich and powerful, that doesn't mean you own people. You are not God."
“I’m worse,” he said with a dark grin. “God forgives. I don’t.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut.
“This is madness,” I snapped. “I’ve done nothing. You’re confusing me with someone else. I’m not part of your filthy mafia world or this pathetic obsession you have with revenge!”
I inhaled deeply.
"I am Samantha, not your Serena..."
My body froze, and my eyes widened when I realised what I had just said.
My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. The silence that followed my words was louder than my scream.
His gaze turned sharp as he stepped forward.
“What did you just say?”
I stayed silent and took a step back. The blood drained from my face, and I was sure he could notice it too.
“I always called you Sera, didn’t I?” There was a lethal calmness in his voice that threatened me to the core. “So tell me, how exactly do you know her full name was Serena?”
I swallowed hard, my brain processing quickly to come up with a lie.
"I... I heard it from one of your men," I said while looking at the floor; his eyes were too dark to look into.
"Let me go! I don't belong here!"
Without sparing him another glance, I slipped past the edge of the couch and immediately started making my way toward the door. My heart pounded in my ears, and for a few seconds, I actually thought I could make it.
But just as I was about to reach the handle—
Crash!
Something shattered right in front of my bare feet.
I gasped and froze in place.
My eyes widened when I saw he had thrown the whisky glass my way.
I looked back at Matteo. His expression was very quiet, and somehow that terrified me more than if he had shouted.
My heart hammered in my chest as I looked back at the door, which was just a few inches away.
So close yet so far.
I was barefoot, and one step forward would send the glass ripping through my already wounded foot.
As I was still trying to gather my thoughts, I suddenly felt his arm wrap around my waist from behind. He lifted me effortlessly against his chest as if I weighed nothing.
“Let go of me! You’re insane!”
I screamed, thrashing, kicking, and hitting him with everything I had, but it had no effect on him.
“Done with your tantrum?” he asked, still holding me tightly against him.
I glared at him from the side and spat, “Let me go.”
“No,” he responded, and I began to fight him again.
“Stop fighting me,” he growled into my ear. “You’re only making it worse for yourself.”
“Get off me!” I clawed at his arm, trying to twist free. “I am not Sera!”
But my words meant nothing to him, and the next thing I knew, he tossed me onto the bed.
I bounced once on the mattress, a sharp gasp escaping my mouth as my hair fell over my face.
His eyes were dark and unreadable as he stalked toward the bed. I lifted my body onto my elbows and crawled back.
“Why are you doing this to me? What do you want from me?” I asked.
“I just want the truth,” he said simply.
My chest heaved with every breath I took.
“And if you don’t give it willingly…” He climbed onto the bed. “Then I’ll tear it out of you myself.”
I shook my head violently and tried to roll off the bed, but he was too quick. He grabbed my ankle and pulled me under him.
A shocked cry escaped my lips as my back hit the mattress. My heart began to pound in my chest, and my throat clenched with panic.
Matteo was above me in seconds. The way he moved suggested he no longer had the patience to pretend. He held my wrists and pinned them above my head with one of his large, rough hands.
His face was now inches from mine. His hot breath fanned my skin, and his eyes burnt into me.
“Every lie you feed me makes me want to break you a little more. Do you understand that?”
Tears stung my eyes. I turned my face away, unable to meet the storm in his gaze.
“Please... let me go... please,” I almost begged.
I was well aware of his strength and knew I couldn't fight him alone. I thought my pleas might change his mind, but I was wrong. He was nothing like before.
His free hand moved to cup my face and forced me to look into his eyes. My gaze flickered between his.
“Why are you so scared?” he asked. “I am a man of my word. If I couldn't find the mole, I promise I will let you go.”
I tried my best to hold my breath, but I couldn't. Panic had taken over, and I had lost complete control of my body.
He will... He will give me the most torturous death, and I knew he wouldn't even believe me. He wouldn't understand how helpless I was.
I didn't betray him!
I didn't!
His hand slowly moved from my face to my shoulder, down to the edge of my shirt. My whole body stiffened as chills ran down my spine.
“Don’t!” My voice trembled.
But he didn’t listen.
His fingers curled into the fabric, pulling it upward. I gasped and thrashed beneath him, but he didn’t flinch. His grip only tightened on my wrists, causing intentional pain.
He yanked the shirt further up, exposing the soft skin of my stomach. I whimpered and twisted in his hold, but he held me firm.
“Stay still!” he shouted. “Don’t make me hurt you... just yet.”
My breath caught in my throat. My whole body shook with fear. I never thought I would be scared of the same man who taught me to fight.
He removed my shirt completely, leaving it around my neck. His fingers curled into the cup of my bra, his gaze hungry—not for lust, but for confirmation.
My heart raced in my throat, and my eyes squeezed shut as he pulled down the cup of my bra to reveal the truth…