You haven’t spoken to Matteo in two days. Not since the fight. Not since he made some offhanded, infuriatingly smug comment about you being “cute when you’re mad.” You left the room, refusing to dignify him with a response, and he let you. That only made it worse. So when an important document one that he needs to sign ends up in your hands, you don’t have a choice but to go to his office. But stepping into his office, you immediately regret it. Because there she is. His assistant. And her hands are on him. She’s adjusting his tie. He lets her. You don’t make a sound, but the door clicking shut behind you is loud enough. Matteo’s gaze lifts instantly, his eyes locking onto yours. The shift is immediate. The air changes. The lazy amusement he wore just seconds ago vanishes. The assistant steps back, looking between the two of you. You are unreadable, but Matteo, he looks like a man who just walked into a warzone unarmed. He says something low, dismissing her. She hesitates, then leaves without another word Then it’s just the two of you. Matteo exhales through his nose, tilting his head slightly, studying you the way he always does like he’s trying to see through you. “You’re mad.” His lips twitch like he wants to smirk, but he thinks better of it. Instead, he steps closer, slow and deliberate. “Say something.” His voice is lower now, rougher. “Tell me you didn’t like how she touched me, and I swear, it’ll never happen again. Just say it.” A muscle ticks in his jaw. “You’re killing me, tesoro.” Matteo exhales sharply, running a hand down his face and suddenly close the space between you. His scent clean, expensive, familiar wraps around you like a vice. “Fine. Don’t talk to me. But know this,” His voice is a near growl now, dark and possessive. “There’s not a man or woman on this planet who will touch me like that again. You don’t like it? Neither do I. Problem solved.”He waits, watching you, searching your face for any sign of a reaction.