"You seem to be in a good mood," he observed, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of satisfaction.

  "I am, I think," I admitted.

  He chuckled softly, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel. "Good."

  I leaned back in the seat, closing my eyes for a moment. The reality of my situation was beginning to sink in, but in this hazy state, it didn't seem quite as daunting. I knew that once the buzz wore off, the weight of it all would return, but for now, I allowed myself a moment of respite. Melody and Peyton would have had a stroke if they had seen me right then.

  It wasn't until we passed through the gates that I realized Mateo's destination was his own home. The mansion loomed ahead, impressive and intimidating despite the darkness. The driveway curved elegantly around a central fountain, its waters shimmering under the soft ambient lighting.

  As we approached, I spotted two men patrolling the perimeter, each moving in a different direction. I knew there were probably more unseen guards ensuring the safety of the estate.

  My first instinct was to message Peyton and Melody about my whereabouts. I hurriedly pulled out my phone from my clutch and sent them a quick update. Just as I hit send, Mateo drove into a massive garage filled with three other luxury cars that easily cost more than my entire life. He parked and turned off the engine, leaving us in an eerie silence.

  "Why did you bring me here?" I asked, trying to sound brave.

  "To do exactly what I promised," he replied with a smirk as he stepped out of the car and came around to open my door. He offered me his hand, which completely engulfed mine. His grip was strong yet surprisingly gentle. As I followed him out of the car, his presence seemed to fill up the entire space around us.

  Mateo’s eyes met mine, a flicker of something unreadable in them. "Come," he said softly, his voice a mix of command and invitation.

  We walked through the garage, the luxury cars gleaming under the soft overhead lights. I felt a sense of unreality as he led me through a side entrance into the house. The interior was just as opulent as I had imagined, with high ceilings, elegant chandeliers, and an artful blend of classic and modern decor. The air was scented with something subtle and expensive.

  The space between us crackled with unspoken tension as he leaned in closer, his voice low and dangerous. "There are a few things we need to discuss, but first, would you like another drink?"

  I felt my heart race at the suggestive tone, but I played it cool. "Trying to get me drunk?"

  He chuckled. "I'll cut you off when you've had enough. You'll want to remember everything that happens tonight."

  My mind swirled with desire and confusion as I struggled to keep up with his game.

  "Is that a yes?"

  I nodded, unable to resist the magnetic pull he had over me. "Yes...please."

  He guided me into a luxurious room that took my breath away. The space was a perfect blend of opulence and comfort, designed to impress. The first thing that caught my eye was the stunning pool table at the center, its dark, polished wood gleaming under the ambient lighting. A rich, black carpet lay beneath it.

  Above the table, intricate chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystals catching the light and casting a warm, inviting glow across the room. The chandeliers themselves were works of art, with branches of gold intertwined and adorned with delicate crystal drops, resembling a cascade of light. To one side of the room was a stocked bar, its shelves lined with an impressive array of spirits

  Behind the bar, a mirrored backdrop reflected the room. Golden accents and artistic designs complemented the overall decor, giving the room a cohesive and sophisticated look. Plush chairs were arranged strategically, offering intimate seating areas for conversation and relaxation. The overall effect was one of refined luxury, a space designed for both entertainment and relaxation.

  "Make yourself comfortable," Mateo said, gesturing to the barstools as he moved behind the bar to mix our drinks. He went behind the bar with practiced ease, selecting a few bottles and ingredients. He began to mix a drink, his movements smooth and confident. A moment later, he handed me a beautifully garnished glass filled with a light, pink-hued cocktail.

  "This is a French 75," he said, watching my reaction. "It's lighter than what I'm having."

  I took a tentative sip, the refreshing citrus flavor mingling with the subtle sweetness of the champagne.

  "It's good," I said, genuinely appreciating the choice. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome," he replied, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

  He came around the bar with his drink and took a stool beside me, his presence as imposing as ever. We sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, the luxurious room providing a backdrop to the weight of our conversation.

  “Tell me more about yourself.”

  I took another sip of my drink, gathering my thoughts. I’d already given the basics at the restaurant. "There's not much more to tell," I started, unsure of how much to reveal. "I've spent most of my life trying to stay out of trouble and looking after my sister."

  Mateo nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. "And what about your interests? Your dreams?"

  I hesitated, surprised by the genuine curiosity in his voice.

  "I used to dream of traveling, seeing the world," I admitted. "But those dreams took a backseat as I got older."

  He listened intently; his expression thoughtful. "I understand," he said after a moment. "Things will be different. You're stepping into a new life, with new possibilities. You give me the location and I will make sure we go."

  I looked at him, trying to read the intentions behind his words. I couldn't detect an ounce of deceit. It wasn't as if he needed to butter me up with pretty words or empty lies. I could see myself jet-setting with him as easily as I could being his wife--not very clear at all. "What about you, Mateo?”

  He leaned back slightly, considering his response. "Power, control, and the need to protect what is mine," he said finally. "Many assume all I have is inherited like I was some fucking trust-fund, spoiled asshole.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Because you’re sweet,” he acknowledged with a dimpled smile. “I admit, I learned much from my father and the other men who raised me, but I've built my side of this empire from the ground up, and I will do whatever it takes to maintain it."

  His honesty was both intimidating and oddly reassuring. This was a man who knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. As I took another sip of my drink, I realized that understanding him was crucial to navigating this new reality. We continued to talk, the conversation flowing more easily as the hour progressed. Despite the circumstances, there was a strange comfort in the way he listened and responded, a connection forming between us that I hadn’t anticipated.

  Or maybe it was just the alcohol talking.

  "Isn't this where you're supposed to be showing me what being your wife is like?" I asked, the alcohol giving my voice a sultry tone.

  Mateo's eyes sparkled with amusement. "I haven't forgotten. And I've been thinking about where to begin since I saw you in that stunning dress."

  My cheeks flushed at his intense gaze, and my heart raced. "That's not what I meant."

  "Regardless, let me make good on my promise," he said with a mischievous grin, finishing his drink. The ice clinked as he set down the glass and moved closer to me. As he closed the distance between us, I could feel the heat of his body against mine. He turned my stool and took hold of my face. His touch was amplified by the alcohol swimming through my veins, electric as he traced a line along my jaw, his eyes never leaving mine.

  There was a hunger in his gaze that both thrilled and terrified me. I tried to steady my racing heart as he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine in a tantalizingly soft kiss. Time seemed to stand still as we lingered in that moment.

  One hand tangled in my hair, pulling my head back to deepen the kiss. The other slipped under my dress, roaming up my smooth thighs. His movement faltered when he reached the hem of my lacey thong. His grip on my hair tightened and he pulled away from my mouth. “I don’t recall sending underwear with this dress.”

  “I couldn’t go without,” I replied softly, the warning in my head distracting me.

  “Already doing as you please?” He stared down at me. “I need to get you upstairs.” He stepped back and pulled me to my feet with a gentle but firm grip, his eyes never leaving mine.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Without another word, he led me through his expansive home. The dim lighting made it difficult to see, but I could sense the sheer size of the space as we walked. We climbed a grand staircase and turned down another hallway, continuing until we reached a pair of double doors. He opened them gracefully and revealed a bedroom far larger than mine, an elegant fusion of luxury and intimacy.

  It had a distinct, inviting scent—a blend of rich leather, faint tobacco, and a hint of something spicy, like sandalwood. The chandelier above us was set low, casting a soft intimate glow. Dark walls and plush furnishings exuded sophistication. A massive bed was the focal point of the room, surrounded by equally lavish nightstands and lamps that screamed expensively. I heard the door click shut, and a surge of awareness shot through me like a bolt of lightning, cutting through the haze of alcohol in my system.

  I was alone with Mateo Escuro.

  I was alone with Mateo Escuro in his bedroom.

  It wasn't hard to discern why he would've brought me there after the kiss at his bar, even in my partially inebriated state. He brushed against my side as he moved around me. I remained rooted in place, as he walked over to the nightstand nearest the door, watching him remove his watch with care. There was a glint of metal in his hand next. My heart skipped a beat as I realized it was a gun, one that I had failed to notice before. But of course, he carried. He was essentially a king in this world of organized crime.

  He placed it on the nightstand next to his watch with practiced ease before turning to face me. “Is this your bedroom,” I blurted out, immediately feeling like a fool for asking the obvious.

  Amusement flickered in his eyes; his dark brows raised slightly.

  "Yes, it is. You're one of the very few women I've allowed this far into my home."

  Right. Because there had obviously been others. Why hadn't he married any of them? His head tilted to the side, a sly grin spreading across his lips as if he could read my every thought. And then it hit me - I had said that last thought out loud.

  "There's a difference between the women men like me fuck and the ones we marry."

  I felt my heart drop as I stared at him, silently pleading for him to explain. He let out a short laugh and rubbed his chin in amusement. "Some are nothing more than pretty objects for us to flaunt around. They're easy to handle until they become clingy. Others are overly ambitious and crave danger, begging to be used by powerful men like me. They never last long - once our novelty wears off, they go running off into the sunset never to be seen again."

  I swallowed hard, understanding the unspoken implication.

  "Then there are the rare women like you, Anjinho," he continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous tone. "Born into this world and fully aware of its ways, yet so naïve and untouched by its cruelty. Beautiful. Vulnerable." He paused as if considering his next words. "Meant to be possessed, pampered, pinned down and fucked.”

  My heart raced in my chest as I processed his words. "That’s what you think of…me?"

  A sinister smile spread across his face. "Ask me that again after tonight."

  I shifted back, bracing myself against the door, a mixture of fear and anticipation building within me. I grasped for the woman from moments ago who eagerly kissed him back and let him put his hand under her dress. One half of my mind assured me I could handle this—it was just sex.

  The other was terrified.

  Determination alone didn't magically transform me into a bad bitch that could overcome every challenge with ease--and Mateo Escuro was most definitely a challenge.

  My bravado shattered into a million pieces as I realized the true danger I was in. The alcohol coursing through my veins offered a temporary escape from reality, but I knew it wouldn't save me from the perilous game I was about to play with this dangerous man. He cocked his head to the side, his eyes piercing into mine as if trying to decipher some hidden meaning. "Você tem medo de mim." His words were laced with a dark edge.

  "What does that mean?"

  "Nothing bad," he replied with a grin that made my blood run cold. "Come here, Elena."

  I heard him clearly, but suddenly I couldn't move. Every instinct in me screamed to stay put. He chuckled, seemingly amused by my trepidation.

  "I can come to you," he coaxed, taking a step closer, "but I believe you'd prefer to be fucked in my bed than pressed against the door."

  He continued walking toward me; his strides confident. My throat tightened as I tried to swallow the fear that was clawing its way up from my stomach. But even as my palms began to sweat and tremble, I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. His hand reached out, hovering dangerously close to my face before coming to rest against the wall beside my head. The other dropped to my thigh like a heated brand.

  A devilish grin spread across his face, revealing deep dimples that only added to his dangerous charm. His light-colored eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. I tried to look away, but he was quick to grip my jaw firmly, keeping me in place. He leaned down without so much as a warning and pressed his lips hungrily against mine.

  "Wait," I managed to protest weakly.

  He paid no mind to it. His hands roamed over my body like flames. Every nerve ending they touched ignited with a searing hot desire that consumed me from within. It was like a violent tornado ripping through my senses, leaving me powerless and disoriented. My pussy throbbed with need, the wetness spreading between my thighs as I instinctively clenched them together. Desperate for something to hold onto, I grabbed his shirt tightly as if it were the only thing keeping me from being swept away.

  Mateo pressed me against the door, his solid body fitting perfectly against mine as he deepened the kiss. I could feel his cock against my lower stomach, the size of it causing my stomach to dip. His hand released my jaw and landed at the base of my throat, exerting a vice-like grip that made it difficult to swallow. His other hand reached beneath my dress, causing me to gasp.

  "These are in my way," he growled, tearing my underwear with such force that the slight pain brought tears to my eyes. The discarded fabric fluttered to the ground as he focused on removing my dress. In seconds, I was left standing in nothing but my heels, completely exposed to his predatory gaze, his eyes roaming over my naked form with a possessive hunger. "You are perfection in its purest form," he declared before claiming my mouth once more in a searing kiss. He forced my legs apart with a roughness that had me sucking in a sharp breath.

  He cupped my pussy, causing me to whimper. Slowly, he increased the pressure, watching my every move as he pressed his palm against my clit. His fingers teasing and circling but not fully penetrating. I couldn't help but bite my lip, my arousal building in response to his touch.

  “Unbutton my shirt,” he commanded his voice level and firm.

  "What?" I barely registered his words through the haze of my drunkenness and what he was doing between my legs.

  "Unbutton my shirt." He repeated his demand.

  I looked at his chest, the subtle rise and fall of his breaths drawing my eyes, then back up to meet his gaze. Slowly, I reached up and began undoing his buttons, willing my hands not to shake, pausing with a soft moan when he eased a finger inside me. “Keep going,” he coaxed. I did my best to ignore my body and finished removing his shirt, seeing his full tattoo in all its glory for the first time up close. It was even larger than what I’d seen when on my run.

  It wrapped around his left bicep and extended the length of his forearm to just above his wrist. The design featured a money rose, its petals crafted from meticulously detailed dollar bills. Intertwined with the rose was an ornate pocket watch, its face frozen at a specific time, suggesting significance.

  Three playing cards, each with a different suit and number, were incorporated seamlessly into the sleeve, their edges sharp and lines precise. Adding to the complexity of the design, an elegant "E" for his surname was woven into the tattoo, placed prominently near his wrist. The letter was designed with a flourish, combining elements of old-world elegance with modern precision. The entire tattoo was a testament to both artistry and the complex layers of Mateo's persona, blending symbols of wealth, time, risk, and family heritage.

  His torso had a few faint scars, each one telling a story of pain and violence. One particularly deep gash ran along his side, a reminder of the constant danger he faced. Aside from the marks, his abs were solid as steel, hardened by years of discipline. With a tight grip on my throat, he violently pulled me away from the door, as if I were nothing but a lifeless marionette under his control.

  My body was tossed onto his bed, feeling weightless like a cloud. I lay there, helpless and paralyzed by his intense gaze.

  "So, so beautiful," he murmured, his words barely audible. I watched as he lowered his pants and revealed the black briefs underneath. With one fluid motion, he freed his cock. I swallowed and stared. It was long and hard and thick. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him or it.

  “Mateo,” I began, a flare of panic rising as he advanced on me.

  "I'll make it good for you," he promised, his voice low and dangerous as he flipped me onto my hands and knees. My heart raced with anticipation and anxiety. "Good girl," he murmured when I held the position, kneading my ass roughly with both hands. I closed my eyes in surrendering his hard cock pressed against my entrance, teasing me with its size.