Bloodied Hands (Bellandi Crime Syndicate 1)

"Oh. How nice of you to take your—" she paused dramatically “—sister to dinner?" I snorted. Full on fucking snorted in the entryway of the nicest restaurant I'd ever been in.

You couldn't take me anywhere, I swear.

The hostess finally hardened her gaze into a glare she narrowed on me. Matteo's voice dropped low as he whispered to her. "My woman. Now, apologize." I swallowed uncomfortably, glancing at the pissed off man next to me.

"I—I'm very sorry, miss," the hostess stuttered, turning frightened eyes my way to avoid Matteo's wrath.

I shrugged, suddenly feeling sympathetic enough to let her off the hook. "It's fine, really. I'll be done with him tonight, so feel free to make plans with him after he takes me home." I smiled at her, and she blanched back at me. Matteo's growl was unmistakable, as was the way the hostess flinched back.

"Alex, take their coats," the hostess called, and a boy came from the coatroom. Matteo's stiff fingers helped me out of mine, and he handed them to the boy with venom written all over his features.

"Do not even attempt to make plans with me later," Matteo said before the hostess could get a word in edge wise. "Ivory here doesn't seem to realize the seriousness of our relationship just yet, but I assure you, I'll be remedying that."

The hostess nodded, grabbing two menus and strutting off toward what I could only assume would be our table. Matteo's hand pressed into my back a little more forcefully, like the frayed edges of his control were slipping in the face of my sass.

Still, he pulled out my chair like a gentleman, and I was about to slide into it with a polite thank you when a man's voice caught both of our attentions. Matteo went ramrod still, the only motion he made was to grasp me around the waist as he pulled me into his side forcefully.

"Matteo!" The man made his way towards us, only sparing a glance for me before he turned his dancing brown eyes back to Matteo. I'd been dismissed after only a glance, but for once I couldn't say I minded. Even in that moment where our eyes had connected, something about the way the dark brown of them glinted gave me the creeps. The way Matteo kept me plastered to his side only confirmed that he was not someone I wanted fixating on me.

"Adrian.” Matteo’s voice was flat, no emotion to him when he answered. They shook hands, postures tense.

"I'm glad I ran into you. I wondered if we could discuss—"

"Not tonight," Matteo said sharply, his arm tightening around me until I had no choice but to turn my body in to face his. Feeling awkward, I raised a hand to rest on his chest. The motion had the unintended benefit of soothing something raw inside Matteo, and even though his body only relaxed a fraction, I felt it in every inch of my body that was plastered to his.

“Understood." Adrian turned dark, dancing eyes to me. Suddenly, he seemed to find me very interesting, and his eyes passed over me from head to toe. "And who might this be?"

"Ivory," I answered, forcing my lips to curl into a tentative but polite smile.

Adrian held out a hand, and I placed mine in it when I realized I had no reason not to, nothing that could be perceived as anything other than an insult, anyway. Raising it to his lips, he pressed a kiss to the back of it. "You are a rare beauty, Ivory." Matteo growled, whether at the words or the sight of Adrian's lips on my skin I would never know, and Adrian turned wide eyes up to him with a smirk.

"Oh, I see. It's like that, is it?" Matteo didn't answer, but Adrian dropped my hand, regardless in the face of Matteo’s eerie silence. Adrian’s smile was no less intimidating as he looked down at me again. "It was lovely to meet you. I'll let you two enjoy your evening." He turned, striding back to what I had to presume was his own table. I sat finally, letting Matteo push my chair in for me.

"What was that?" I whispered as he took his own seat across from me.

"Adrian is a business rival," he answered shortly, opening his own menu. I didn't continue my questioning immediately, as the waiter came and took our drink order. Matteo ordered a bottle of wine, that I had to assume was insanely expensive. I ignored it, letting him act in his high-handed way.

It was one dinner; I reminded myself.

Eat some delicious food and then get out.

"Do you know what you would like?" Matteo asked after the waiter left.

I widened my eyes at him dramatically. "Are we really not going to talk about whatever that was?"

Matteo sighed, setting his menu on the table and turning his attention to me finally. "It was business, and you Cara mia, are not part of my business. I would like it to stay that way."

"Because I'm so naïve I couldn't possibly understand your business?" I hissed.

"No, because it is much safer for you if you're not involved. I may be many things, but I will always do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

The waiter came back, saving me from having to respond to the ridiculous lie of that statement. The polite smile he turned down at me was polite, all clean-cut charm. "What can I get for you, Miss?"

"The spring risotto," I said with a smile.

"An excellent choice." The man gave me a bright smile, before turning to Matteo. "And for you, Sir?"

"The bistecca fiorentina." Matteo's voice was short and curt, and I looked up to see him glaring daggers at the waiter. "She's not on the menu, so don't look at her like she's a piece of meat."