The resounding click of the door lock had Alia nearly tumbling out of bed in panic. She all but shoved Matteo away, kicking and crawling before she accidentally pulled Matteo down onto her. At the sa ti, the door opened, and a woman stepped in, causing Alia to freeze where she was.
Matteo had to prop himself up using his arms, though his face was barely hovering above Alia’s. His lips were so close, and for the hundredth ti that night, Alia found her gaze wandering where it should never lay.
A short gasp sounded, and Alia tried to peep over Matteo to have a look at who it was, only to be blocked by Matteo. His arms were two unmovable pillars, one at each side, and they wedged her firmly in place.
"What the fu―"
"Get out," Matteo lowly said without even turning back. He remained as he was, using his body to hide Alia from view.
Instantly, Alia broke out in cold sweat. Her clothes felt as though they were soaked through at this rate.
This was it. She was a howrecker. Even if she technically hadn’t done anything wrong yet, Alia was caught in bed with her boss, by none other than his girlfriend― or worse, a secret wife. Even if she wasn’t fired, she wouldn’t be able to live a good, peaceful life. One too many television dramas had taught her enough.
"Matteo, is that―"
"I said, get out," Matteo repeated, his tone firr this ti.
He swiftly got up, still using his body to block both won from each other’s direct view, and made a beeline for the door. Before Alia could react, he had all but shoved the woman out of his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
Alia could even faintly hear the sound of them arguing, but even when she crawled up to the door and pressed her ear against the wooden panel, she couldn’t make out the words.
She managed to sift so words out as they were clearer than others, words like ’girlfriend’, ’secret’, and ’liar’.
Her eyes turned to the windows. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to just escape through the balcony and pray that no paparazzi would be waiting downstairs for her. Or worse, the driver of the black car that stalked them the entire way out of the charity auction.
Still lost in her own thoughts, Alia hadn’t even realized that the door had already cracked open, and Matteo stepped into the room. She had squatted down behind the door, her knees pressed against her chest as she chewed her nails in panic. When Matteo t her at eye level, Alia instinctively backed away.
"This isn’t right, Mr. Montgory!" she all but exclaid, creating as much distance as she could between them within a second. "You have a girlfriend, and I am not planning on becoming a mistress―"
"Calm down, Miss Kentwood," Matteo said, but Alia was still rattling off, not paying attention to Matteo’s words.
"You know my romantic history too, Mr. Montgory. I am going through a rather ssy divorce right now, and I have no intention of starting another romantic relationship, even if it’s based on money and not love. Perhaps it’s best I leave―"
"Alia!"
Matteo’s fingers felt like burning charcoal when they wrapped around her wrist. Even with a light touch, it felt like his skin was scorching her alive, leaving prints wherever they touched. Alia jolted, blinking a few tis as she finally t his gaze. A storm swirled in his eyes, and she gulped. Sohow, he had already closed the distance that she had created, leaving them inches apart away from one another once more.
"Mr. Montgory, I―"
"Matteo."
Alia’s eyelashes fluttered as she blinked rapidly in confusion. When t with her silence, Matteo sighed and repeated himself.
"Call Matteo when we’re alone," he said.
Finally, Alia realized that she hadn’t misheard him when he said it the first ti at the charity gala. He had ant what he said, and for so strange, unfathomable reason, Alia felt her stomach curl and coil like a snake wrapping itself around the apple.
This was no good. This handso man was like the devil, tempting her to sin, and weak as she was, Alia found herself succumbing all too easily.
But before she could overthink and spill a gutful of words, Matteo added, "And that isn’t my girlfriend."
Now, Alia was even more confused. If not a girlfriend, then was she a secret wife?
"But she said―" Then, her eyes widened and she slapped her hand over her lips.
Matteo raised an eyebrow. "Were you eavesdropping?"
"No..." Alia sheepishly said, looking away. She refused to et Matteo’s gaze, knowing that her cheeks would burn like the fireworks of New Year’s Eve if she did. "I just... You were just conversing rather loudly. It was hard for my ears not to catch what you were saying."
"Oh?" Matteo asked, and Alia caught a hint of amusent in his voice. "Then pray tell, what did we converse about?"
Alia swallowed. Good heavens, he was so close. She could barely even breathe, afraid that every movent she made would just amplify how loud her heartbeat was. It was racing like a bullet train at this point, and she felt it clog at her throat, refusing her a chance to speak.
Even her brain felt like it was running in circles, buzzing wildly as she sought helplessly for words to aid her, only to find none.
"I... I...I―"
"I have no girlfriend, Alia," Matteo said. "And before you overthink, I do not have a wife in secret either."
His fingers didn’t let go of her wrist, and instead, it even tightened its grip. It wasn’t painful in the slightest, but it sent surges of electricity rushing through her body as though she had been struck by lightning in the most thrilling of ways.
A coy smile curved his lips, and he leaned in just the slightest. His lips were now a hair’s breadth away from hers, and Alia instinctively held her breath.
"Unless, perhaps you would like to volunteer?"
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