Matteo Raffaele Moretti (AO SERIES 1)

[Ch 2]

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The door to the room opened with a soft creak, and in walked Claudette Willow, another assassin from the Alleanza Oscura, a strikingly beautiful woman whose confidence was as lethal as her skills. Her long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her tight black outfit hugged her curves in all the right places. She walked toward Matteo with a sultry smile, her eyes locking on his with a kind of predatory gleam.

Without a word, they kissed deeply, passionately, as if the whole world had vanished around them. Matteo’s hands roamed as he whispered into her ear, “In my bed.” His voice was low and filled with command. Claudette smirked against his lips, a knowing glint in her eyes, before pulling away.

He slapped her firmly on the ass, a playful but domineering gesture, before looking at me with cold, dismissive eyes. His smirk was one of victory. Claudette turned to me, her gaze predatory and filled with amusement. She approached me slowly, her heels clicking against the cold floor, before she began to methodically strip me of my weapons. Her fingers lingered on the hilts of my knives, her expression almost mocking.

“Too bad for you, bitch,” she sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. “You’re caught.” She untied the ropes binding my hands, her fingers brushing against my skin as she did. My pulse quickened in anger, but I knew better than to make any sudden movements.

She eyed me with an almost playful malice, then whispered low in my ear, her tone cold and threatening, “Try to escape, bitch, or your throat will be singing blood.”

I clenched my fists, the ropes now looser around my wrists. She stood me up and immediately retied them even tighter than before, the knot digging into my skin. Her hands were rough, efficient, and unfeeling. She was enjoying every moment of my discomfort.

I glared at her, my hatred burning in my eyes, but she simply smirked, unfazed.

“That’s right,” she taunted, “follow me like a good little slave.”

Pinangunahan ako ni Claudette sa makitid at madilim na pasilyo, amoy kalawang at basa sa paligid. Binuksan niya ang pinto at lumitaw ang hagdan pababa sa ilalim ng lupa. Umuungol ang mga baitang habang kami’y bumababa, at ramdam ko ang bumibigat na hangin sa bawat hakbang.

At the bottom, there were two guards standing by, playing cards. They looked up at us with casual smirks, their eyes lingering on Claudette with familiar lust. She winked at them, her confidence unwavering. When they caught sight of me, their expressions shifted to disgust and anger, but they said nothing. One guard muttered something under his breath as he opened the heavy door at the end of the hallway.

As I passed through, I felt the chill of a prison vibe suffocating the space. The cold, sterile atmosphere was punctuated by the occasional clang of metal doors. Glass mirrors lined the walls, reflecting the darkness within the cells. There was a sense of isolation here, like the deepest corners of hell.

Claudette stopped abruptly in front of a small room and shoved me inside. The door slammed shut behind me with a deafening clang, echoing in the silence. She turned to me one last time, a cruel smile stretching across her lips.

“Enjoy your stay, bitch,” she spat, and with that, she was gone.

The room was cold and featureless, save for a small, grimy toilet in the corner and a single CCTV camera fixed above the door. The walls were bare, and the only light came from a faint bulb in the ceiling. I showed the camera my middle finger in defiance, then slumped against the wall. I was alone.

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I wake up when the cold water hit me. I jolted upright, gasping for breath as the freezing liquid soaked into my clothes. I could hear a guard’s voice as he entered.

“Tayo!” he barked, grabbing me roughly by the arm and hauling me to my feet. He was relentless, dragging me down the hallway toward the sound of clanging metal and distant screams.

We reached the torture room, and the air was thick with the rancid stench of sweat and fear. Inside, Matteo was lounging casually in a chair, a cigarette dangling from his lips. The room felt like a hellish throne room, and Matteo looked every bit the king in his own kingdom of pain. He was watching me with dark amusement, his eyes gleaming as I was pushed into the chair across from him.

Claudette was there too, perched on her knees beside him, wearing a low-cut, revealing outfit that only amplified her seductive nature. She smiled as she leaned in, kissing him deeply, their lips pressing together in a mix of passion and possessiveness. Matteo’s hands slid over her, possessively caressing her, before he pulled away, his voice dark and commanding. “Get out,” he ordered. Claudette winked at him and giggled, her face lighting up like a schoolgirl receiving attention from her crush. She slapped his chest playfully before he kissed her again, his hands tightening on her body.

Once she left, Matteo’s gaze turned cold, his expression hardening. His voice was like a knife as he addressed me, his anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“Tell me, shrimp, why does your fucking organization want to kill me?”
He leaned forward, the dark amusement in his eyes fading into something far more dangerous.

I stayed silent, my lips pressed tightly together. I wasn’t about to break. Matteo’s eyes narrowed as he saw my defiance, his voice like ice as he threatened, “If you don’t speak, I’ll slit your throat.”

But I just smirked, defiant to the end. “Go fuck yourself.”

Matteo laughed, a deep, dark chuckle that seemed to echo in the room.

“I like your fiery spirit,” he mused, almost approvingly.

“You’re perfect for being my wife.”

The words hung in the air, the promise of something dark and twisted behind them.

He leaned back in his chair, staring at me with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. The heat between us was palpable, and I knew that, in this twisted game, there was no way out.

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WARNING: The ML of this story is, Red Flag 🚩Very red, like blood of the rapists.