"Hi, Christian," I said with a hesitant smile. He'd been nothing but polite since the first time, abnormally so, but I hadn't been able to shake the reminder I looked like all the other girls Matteo banged.
Euw.
He cleared his throat, turning an oddly amused look Scar's way, and the sullener man only glared back. "Go on in," Christian said, stepping back from the car and hitting the button to let us into the estate. As we drove up the long, winding drive, it became obvious what Christian had meant by a busy day.
Someone was moving.
My heart thudded in my chest, unable to believe that Matteo wouldn't have mentioned he was moving, unless he planned on dumping me or he was in trouble and had to get out of dodge.
But why would he have me brought to the house?
A moving van passed us on the drive, another sitting in front of the house as two men hopped out of the front. We pulled up behind them, and they opened the rear doors to reveal a van packed with boxes.
"Uhh kay. Did Matteo get married or something?" I asked Scar, who smirked at me from the side. He was out of the car the next moment, and I followed him, albeit hesitantly. I did not belong at Matteo's house under the best circumstances, but my dirty running shoes were particularly unsightly against the opulent tile of the foyer. My high-waisted running shorts and sports bra weren't much better. Boxes covered the foyer, and two staff I recognized in passing collected things from the foyer and brought them up the stairs or to the living area and kitchen as we made our way to the hall to go to Matteo's office.
Scar knocked on the door, turning to murmur to me. "I really don't feel like chasing you. Keep that in mind, yeah?" he grinned, shoving the door open at Matteo's command. I froze at the threshold, staring up at Scar.
"Why—why would I—" I broke off when Scar shoved me into the room, and I barely caught myself before I stumbled. The door closed behind me, and I eyed Matteo as he stood from behind his desk. "What's going on?" I asked him, crossing my arms over my chest and preparing to harden myself. Matteo wouldn't know that he hurt me.
Not the second time around.
"Come sit with me," he gestured to the couch against the wall and facing his desk. I eyed it warily, knowing it hadn't been there before. It was white, modern but a light contrast to all the masculine grays and browns of his office. A little coffee table and ottoman hybrid sat in front of the couch, looking like a perfectly cozy space to curl up and work if I ever saw one. I went as he took my hand and guided me to the couch, plopping down next to him. I didn't even care that I might dirty up the fabric, since I'd likely never see it again.
"The issue with Adrian is proving to be more difficult to solve than I originally foresaw. Given your stunt last night," he broke off, eyeing me in frustration, "I no longer believe it's safe for you to remain in your home for the time being."
"I knew—," I paused, feeling everything in my body tighten as his words sunk in. "What?"
"Adrian remains as fixated as ever, and you're determined to put yourself in dangerous situations by sneaking out past your
security. I need you to remain where I can keep a closer eye on you." I tugged my hand free from his grasp.
"What the fuck does that mean?" I whispered.
"Angel," he whispered, and I stood from the couch. Darting to the door, I raced for the foyer and threw open one of the boxes. The staff stared at me, and I vaguely knew of them snickering when my jaw dropped, and horror settled over me.
My stand mixer sat there, gleaming like sea glass in the light streaming down through the massive skylight.
Backing away a step, I stared at it, blinking while I wrapped my head around what was happening. With a shake of my head, I made for the front door.
This was insane.
He was insane.
Scar stepped in front of the door, crossing his arms over his chest and looking formidable as he blocked my path. "Move," I ordered, walking into him and trying to shove him aside.
"Can't do that, Ms. Torres," he grunted. "Told you, I don't much feel like chasing you."
"Angel," Matteo said somewhere behind me, and the sound of his footsteps against the tile made my body jerk with every step closer he came.
"You can't do this," I whispered, feeling like I might break.
"I'll do what I have to do to keep you safe," he murmured back, a hand reaching out and brushing my hair away from my shoulder.
I whirled on him, shoving at his chest to the sound of gasps around me. "You do not get to move me out of my home! What is wrong with you?!"
"You should have thought of that before you went out alone last night."
I shoved him again, hating the fact that his body barely budged. "I'm going home. I expect my things will be returned today."