He moves the glass back and brings up his hand to my mouth. I keep my lips tightly shut.
"It's a tablet for the headache that was caused by the vodka you drank," he explains. I roll my eyes at him and take the tablet. He moves the glass back to my lips and make me drink some more water.
Finally he keeps the glass aside and sits in front of me, all serious and... in his boxers?!
"Why the fuck are you in your boxers and in my room?" I hiss.
He closes his eyes, sighing deeply. Like he's the one annoyed with me.
"How much did you drink, Ella?"
"I don't know, why does it matter?" I cross my arms over my chest.
He laughs bitterly. "Well you said some stuff last night which you wouldn't in the right mind. So I'm planning to get you that drunk again to listen to those words of heaven that came out of your mouth last night."
My face twists. What the hell did I say last night?
"What?" I ask, confused.
"I ask one simple question." His voice turns dangerous right now and he opens his eyes. I see a bit of anger in them. Woah. What happened last night?
"Ella. How much did you drink?" His voice is dangerously low. I'm not talking to Matteo Bianchi right now, no. I'm talking to the Capo of the Italian mafia. Or maybe they're the same person but a different side.
"Five shots of vodka, I'm lightweight and I don't remember anything about last night. What happened?" My voice seems small as I say all this, it feels like I'm a teenager in trouble. I can't bring myself to look into Matteo's eyes because he is clearly angry with me. He's never been angry with me. What happened?
From the corner of my eye, I see the movement of his head telling me he nodded. "You're never drinking again without supervision."
My eyes widen and brows furrow. "I'm not a child." I protest.
He leans into me, his movement holding anger somehow. "Listen to me for once," He grits out through his teeth. Without wasting another second, he stands up and goes over to my sofa, wearing his clothes from yesterday.
Holy god, his ass is so--stop it, Ella.
I can't help but let all my thoughts consume me. I haven't known Matteo for long but he hasn't been angry at me before this. What is it that I did yesterday that got him so riled up? How bad did I fuck up? Wait, did I fuck him?
Oh hell, oh no. I did not lose my virginity to someone on a drunken night. Right? Right?
Matteo walks almost outside the room when I let my thoughts win. "Did we have sex last night?"
Immediate regret. My gaze goes down and my hands starts to fidget with my blanket. From my peripheral vision, I can see Matteo turn around slowly and then walk towards me.
Even his walk is hot. Is the alcohol still in my system? Yes, probably.
His hand comes over mine, making this weird feeling in my stomach come. Or maybe it's the alcohol. Yes, definitely the alcohol.
There's an urge I'm getting to trace the veins on Matteo's tanned hand and all the small tattoos too.
He inter-vines his fingers with mine. Having no clue what corrupted me, I don't pull my hand out. I'm not starting to like Matteo, right? That would be absolutely insane. Yes, the idea that Henry might have killed him makes me feel such dread and horror, an emptiness, it's unexplainable. Maybe I only care for him slightly because he is a human.
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My captor
العاطفيةI had met him 5 years ago for the first time, I didn't know who he was. I didn't know his name. I couldn't even properly see him. I tried to find him but didn't. But trust me when I say I wouldn't have tried to find him or even think about him if...
CHAPTER 19
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