Chapter 3 - Blood on Emerald Silk
The heavy armored SUV roared through the rain-slicked streets of Providence, tires squealing against wet asphalt as Dario pushed the engine to its limit. In the back seat, the heavy silence was broken only by the rhythmic thrum of the windshield wipers and the faint, labored sound of Vivien’s breathing.
Outside, neon signs from closed diners and dark harbor warehouses blurred into streaks of amber and electric blue. Inside the darkened cabin, Matteo was on the phone, his voice a low, terrifying rumble that promised scorched earth.
"Lock down the south docks," Matteo ordered into the encrypted burner phone. "Russo had inside clearance for that gala. He knew where my personal detail would be staged, and he knew the camera dead zones in the ballroom. Find out who sold the route. If they breathe a word about family, put them in the bay."
He hung up, tossing the phone onto the leather seat between them. He turned his attention entirely to Vivien. The adrenaline that had carried her through the shattering glass and gunfire was beginning to drain away, leaving her pale and trembling against the dark upholstery.
"Hart," Matteo said, his voice dropping into that quiet, commanding register that always made her spine straighten. He reached across the console, his large hand wrapping around her cold fingers. "Let me see your arm."
"I told you, I'm fine," Vivien whispered, trying to pull away with what little stubborn professionalism she had left. "It was just flying glass. A scratch."
Matteo didn't listen. With an impatient click of his tongue, he leaned across the space, his fingers gently parting the silk of his discarded tuxedo jacket where it rested over her shoulders. The left sleeve of her emerald dress was torn near the shoulder, soaked in dark, blooming crimson. A shard of ornamental crystal from the chandelier had sliced through her flesh when she shoved Matteo out of the bullet's path.
A dark, dangerous look crossed Matteo's face—something so raw and possessive it made Vivien's breath hitch in her throat. "You called this a scratch?"
"It doesn't hurt," she lied, wincing as he carefully peeled back the torn silk.
"You're a terrible liar, Vivien. You always have been, except when you were telling Dominic Russo you belonged to me." He reached into the medical kit stored under the passenger seat, pulling out sterile gauze and antiseptic. His hands, capable of breaking bones without hesitation, were astonishingly gentle as he cleaned the jagged cut. "Why did you do it?"
Vivien looked out the rain-streaked window, avoiding the piercing intensity of his dark eyes. "You would have died. Russo's hitman had a clear line of sight. Your security was looking at the doors."
"That was their job to catch, not yours," Matteo murmured, wrapping the white bandage firmly around her upper arm, his fingers lingering on her soft skin long after the tape was set. "You're an administrator. You manage my calendar. You deal with contracts and wire transfers. You do not catch bullets meant for the head of the Bellini syndicate."
"I couldn't just stand there and watch them kill you," she said, her voice cracking slightly under the weight of the evening. She turned her hazel eyes back to him, unguarded for the first time in three years. "Do you think I'm made of stone, Matteo? Do you think I've spent three years beside you just to watch someone put a hole in your chest over some dock rights?"
Matteo froze. The air inside the SUV grew thick, charged with the unsaid truths they had both buried beneath professional boundaries and polite nods. He leaned in, his face inches from hers, his dark eyes searching every curve of her face. "You called me Matteo," he noted softly. "Not Mr. Bellini."
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"We're running from assassins in an armored truck," Vivien whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Formalities seem a little ridiculous right now."
Matteo stared at her lips, his jaw tight with a restraint that looked painful. "We're not going back to your apartment. Russo knows who you are now. Until this is resolved, you stay where I can see you."
