Dangerous Desires

Ch 6: Lola

The sound of glass shattering wakes me out of my sleep, and everything is suddenly quiet again. A smart person would stay locked in the safety of their room, but not me. I'm out of bed, slipping on my robe and slippers and cracking the room door open. My hands tighten on the door handle—maybe I should just wait here.

"I didn't spare your fucking life for you to be useless to me. If you can't do your fucking job—"

"I'm sorry, boss. I didn't realize he—"

"I don't want your fucking sorrows; I want results, and if I don't get the results, I seek... your days on Earth are numbered." Matteo's voice is low but has that subtle hint of danger to it.

Curiosity overpowers caution, and I slip through the door, edging along the hallway wall. As I approach the living room, the conversation grows louder.

"Just give me one more chance, boss. I swear I'll fix it!"

"Keep your fucking voice down. Junior, this is your last fucking chance. You know what I do with liabilities."

I peer around the corner just in time to see a large, burly man weakly get up from the floor, blood trickling down his face. My eyes move to Matteo, who is sitting on the recliner, looking at the man, whom I'm assuming is Junior, with disgust.

The sudden sharp clink of metal pulls my attention downward. Matteo is toying with a gleaming switchblade, rolling it between his fingers with a menacing casualness that makes my feet start to move backward on their own accord. Junior, struggling to maintain his composure, nods vigorously, desperation painted all over his bruised features.

"Good," Matteo's voice slices through the tension like the blade he's playing with. "Now get out of my sight, and don't get your blood on anything."

As Junior stumbles towards the front door, his eyes catch mine. Fear flickers for a moment before he looks away, shuffling faster. The moment he disappears, I retreat back to the shadows of the hallway. My heart is pounding in my ears, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I need to get back to my room, but my legs refuse to move as quickly as I'd like. The fear of being discovered by Matteo roots me momentarily to the spot.

Matteo's voice again penetrates the stillness of the house; it is calm, chillingly so. "Lola, come here."

Crap. He saw me.

I quickly return to my room, close the door quietly behind me, and jump back into bed. Maybe he didn't see me, but he thinks he did. I even out my breathing just in case he comes inside—he will think I'm asleep. My heart races as I feign sleep. I lie on my side with my back to the door, and my eyes shut tightly.

Seconds stretch into long, terrifying minutes—then, finally, I hear his footsteps. I count from one hundred backward in a desperate attempt to calm my nerves, trying to sound like I'm deep in peaceful slumber. I'm at seventy-two when the door clicks open gently. How ironic that such a man of his physique could move so quietly, almost delicately.

My body tenses further, each muscle coil tight as Matteo's footsteps approach the bed. The air around me feels cooler as his shadow falls over me. "Lola," he whispers, dangerously soft. "I know you're not asleep."

It takes every ounce of courage I have not to react. My breathing remains measured, but inside, my heart is a drumbeat of panic.

"Come now," he continues, a hint of impatience threading his tone. "Do you think I am a fool? That I wouldn't notice you spying?" I feel the blanket being pulled back, and I remain still, not giving any indication that I'm up, and if he stays in here for another minute, I'm going to cave.

"Lola, sweet, sweet, sweet Lola." His fingers brush against my shoulder, tracing a path down my arm with a false tenderness that sends shivers of dread across my skin. "We need to talk about what you saw and or heard. There's no point pretending anymore. The moment you walked out of this room, I felt the energy change—it felt like happiness. So come on, honeybee, stop pretending."