Page 16

Margot

I’m playing with Benny when Dotty appears at the door.

“Are you ready for dinner, dear?” It’s framed as less like a question and more as a command.

I sigh. “I’m guessing I don’t have a choice.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Come with me to the dining room.”

“Why can’t I just eat in the kitchen? I had breakfast and lunch in there?”

“Matthias wants you to join him for supper. He specifically requested eggplant parmesan, which is odd. He usually has meat or seafood with every meal. But I found a good recipe, and I think it’ll be great.”

I freeze.

Eggplant parmesan? That’s my favorite.

Does he know that?

No. That’s impossible.

But then why would he request a meal he never eats ?

I shake the thought away. He doesn’t know. He wouldn’t care. It’s just a coincidence.

I force myself to focus as Dotty carries on about the homemade red sauce, fresh tomatoes from the garden, and hand-baked breadcrumbs. Normally, I’d be impressed, but my brain is stuck on why the hell Matty is making me eat with him.

I haven’t seen him all day. He hasn’t had any interest in me since he dropped me off with Benny.

Why now?

But before I can figure it out, we’re in the dining room.

The first thing I notice is the table. It’s massive, solid mahogany, intricate detailing, surrounded by ten chairs, but could easily fit more.

The second thing I notice?

The place settings.

One at the head of the table. The other right next to it.

Absolutely not.

Before I can second-guess myself, I grab my setting and haul it to the opposite head of the table.

Dotty gasps. “Oh, dear. I don’t think you should do that. Matthias specifically instructed me to seat you next to him.”

Fat fucking chance.

“I’m sure he won’t care.” I say casually, dropping into my new seat.

Dotty mutters something about “obstinate girl” under her breath as she disappears into the kitchen.

I barely have time to adjust before the door swings open.

Matty enters with a wide smile, until he sees me.

He stops mid-stride.

“I thought I told Dotty to set you at my side,” he says, confused.

“She did.” I confirm, not wanting Dotty in trouble.

Understanding dawns on him. His smile vanishes .

“Why did you move?” His voice dips lower.

I avoid eye contact. “I didn’t see the need to be that close.” My cheeks burn. It’s a dead giveaway.

He goes silent.

I risk a glance up, only to find him grinning. Then he laughs.

“And why don’t we need to be close?” He leans forward, eyes gleaming. “Are you scared of how much you want me?”

I roll my eyes. “Keep dreaming, Matty. I’m not into you.”

His smirk deepens. “Didn’t seem that way this morning, sweetheart.”

I turn red. He’s talking about when I checked him out. When I practically devoured him with my eyes.

“And don’t call me Matty.” His voice shifts into something sharper and commanding.

Oh, he hates that.

Perfect .

Dotty saves me by walking in with our food.

“Here you go, dears. Eggplant parmesan with garlic bread.” She sets them down and heads out.

I mutter my thanks, relieved for the distraction. Matty, however, is not distracted.

Instead of taking his seat at the other end of the table, he slowly picks up his plate.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“What are you doing?” I ask as suspicion overwhelms me.

He ignores me.

Balancing his plate, utensils, and glass with ease, he walks straight to my side of the table. He sets his place directly next to mine. Then, finally, he looks at me, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“I have trouble hearing across the room,” he says smoothly. “It’s better for me to be close to you. ”

I narrow my eyes. “You’re lying.”

He doesn’t even pretend to deny it. He just smiles wider with an evil gleam in his eyes. He settles in like he owns the place. Which, technically, he does.

I grip my fork. “You don’t seem like the kind of man to give up the head of the table.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” His voice drops to something slow, teasing. “My seating arrangement doesn’t change my position in this relationship.” He takes a bite, swallows. “In and out of the bedroom. I will always be in charge.”

I scoff. “We don’t have a relationship, and you certainly aren’t in charge of me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He sets his fork down, completely composed. “Your obedience will be rewarded. Your defiance will be punished.”

Heat floods my veins.

“Fuck you,” I snap, pushing back my chair, but his hand clamps down on my shoulder. I shiver. Betrayed by my own body. “This is why I knew sitting next to you was a bad idea.”

“Sit down and eat.” His grip stays firm. “It won’t be as good when it gets cold, and Dotty made this just for you.”

My stomach betrays me next, by letting out a loud growl.

His smirk deepens.

Damn it.

I grab my fork and stab a bite.

The moment the food hits my tongue, I melt. It’s perfect. Cheesy, saucy, crispy in all the right places. A soft, involuntary moan escapes me. I close my eyes, savoring it. I take another bite. Another moan.

Something shifts.

I open my eyes .

Matty freezes, fork suspended midair. His hungry gaze is locked on my mouth. Full of a barely leashed intensity. Then he groans. Low. Rough. Wrecked.

I replay the last few seconds. The moaning. The lip licking.

Oh. My. God.

I turn scarlet.

I cut off my next moan midway, trying to act normal.

Matty exhales sharply, shaking his head.

But his eyes stay dark.