Matteo Raffaele Moretti (AO SERIES 1)

[Ch 3]

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“Why would you want me as your wife?” I demanded, glaring at him with disdain.

“Claudette’s right there, her legs wide open for you. What do you want with me? Are you just trying to use me, or is there something more?”

Matteo smirked, blowing a cloud of smoke that drifted lazily between us. His eyes were unreadable, cold, with an unsettling glint.

“Simple lang,” he said, his voice a low, chilling murmur.

“To use you, of course, my little shrimp. And to make your pathetic organization watch as one of their own becomes my obedient pet. Too bad for them,” he chuckled darkly.

“I caught their best agent.”

I felt a flare of rage surge through me. My hands were throbbing, wrists rubbed raw and purple from the ropes. I hated this man, despised him more than anyone. This world of mafias had taken everything from me, twisted my life beyond repair.

They’d forced me to become a weapon, an agent trained to kill without hesitation or mercy. And now here was this monster, sitting across from me, laughing, thinking he could make me his wife?

He was in for a rude awakening.

“Stop calling me shrimp, you bastard,” I spat, fury blazing in my eyes.

“You think I’m some little thing you can play with? Try it, and you’ll have a bullet between your eyes before you can blink.”

Matteo’s smirk only widened. “I’ll call you whatever I please… shrimp.”

He sneered, shifting his gaze to the man standing nearby—one of his goons, built like a tank. He gave him a single nod, and the thug left the room, returning moments later with a long metal rod, the tip red-hot and glowing with the outline of a rose.

“Now, taste this pain, shrimp,” Matteo said, his voice dangerously calm as he looked me over with that predatory glint.

His gaze darkened, and he nodded toward the thug, who advanced on me, holding the burning iron with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

I struggled, the ropes biting into my skin, but the thug grabbed me roughly, tearing the thin maid’s dress off my shoulder, leaving me exposed in just my bra. The cold air bit at my skin, but I didn’t care—I was too focused on the burning metal moving closer, closer—

“No!” I screamed, but it was too late.

The thug pressed the searing iron into my shoulder, and a white-hot wave of agony shot through me. I bit down hard, refusing to give them the satisfaction of hearing me scream, but the pain was unbearable.

Matteo watched with an amused smile as I trembled, sweat trickling down my forehead. “You’ll obey me and my rules,” he said in a chillingly calm voice, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“You belong to me now, shrimp.”

“Go to hell,” I hissed, my voice hoarse with pain.

His smirk deepened.
“Oh, I will, shrimp. And I’ll drag you down with me.”

The world blurred, the pain too much to bear, and everything faded to black.