Page 44 of Raziel

Alessia looked pleased. I knew what she was doing—trying to make sure no single women lingered near her man.

Dinner was announced.

The mahogany table was set like a magazine spread—crystal, china, candelabras.

And one empty seat beside Matteo.

“Maya,” Alessia said sweetly, “why don’t you sit there?”

Right beside her cousin.

Matteo stood, pulling out my chair with a dimpled smile.

He kissed the back of my hand like he thought it’d do something to me.

It didn’t.

I sat. Smiled. Shot a glance at Raziel.

His jaw was tight. His gaze, locked on his plate.

The appetizers came. Matteo talked. He was charming. Educated. Full of himself in a harmless way.

I laughed in the right places. I even leaned in a little. Just enough for Raziel to see.

And I felt him watching.

Every move.

Every breath.

Matteo said something about his villa in Naples and his mother’s obsession with roses.

I nodded. “That sounds beautiful.”

Matteo reached for the wine.

Another buzz.

I’m going to fuck you sore later tonight if you keep this shit up.

I nearly choked on my water.

Matteo leaned over. “You okay?”

I smiled. “Just fine.”

When the entrées were served, Alessia raised a toast.

Something about tradition and family and growing stronger together.

I was too busy imagining Raziel storming across the table, flipping it, and dragging me out by my wrist.

He looked about ready to do it.

Chapter sixteen- Raziel

Alessia had moved the party outside to the Olympic-sized swimming pool. I stood by the glass doors, whiskey burning a hole in my palm, watching Maya.