Page 53 of Tempting Tessa

Chapter 17

Matteo

I’m gonna fucking kill someone if she’s not okay. I’m flexible on who takes the bullet if my woman is hurt.

The elevator ride to Contessa’s floor feels like it’s taking a goddamn century. I keep checking my watch, grinding my teeth hard enough to crack enamel, and fighting the urge to punch the mirrored wall. Three fucking hours without contact. No texts. No calls. Nothing since Rocco dropped her at brunch with her friend.

I was in the middle of negotiating a seven-figure shipment when Rocco called. The second I heard his voice—”Sir, it’s been three hours, and I just walked in to check on Miss Gallo just in case and she’s gone”—I was out the door. The Bulgarians can fucking wait. My pregnant woman can’t.

The doors finally slide open, and I stride down the hallway like death itself. I nod at the doorman, who doesn’t even blink as I pass. He knows better than to stop me. I’ve been coming and going from this building as if I own the place for weeks now.

I pull out my key and slide it into the lock. The door swings open silently.

“Stellina?” I call out, stepping into the apartment. The living room is empty, the lights off. “Contessa!”

No answer. My heart rate kicks up a notch. I scan the room for signs of disturbance—forced entry, broken glass, blood—but everything looks normal. Too fucking normal.

I move through the apartment, checking the kitchen and the office, before heading toward the bedroom.

The bathroom door is ajar, light spilling out into the hallway. I hear something—a sniffle, maybe a sob—and my blood turns to ice.

“Contessa,” I say, pushing the door open.

And there she is, my woman, crumpled on the bathroom floor like a broken doll. Her hair is a mess, her mascara streaked down her face in black rivers. Why the fuck is she crying? No one causes her tears; every one of them belongs to me. She’s clutching something in her hand, knuckles white with tension.

“Get out,” she hisses, not looking up at me.

I ignore her, stepping into the bathroom. My eyes scan the counter, and I freeze.

Pregnancy tests.

My heart stops, then restarts at double speed. I don’t need to see the results. I know what they say. I’ve made sure of it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she demands, finally looking up at me. Her eyes are swollen, red-rimmed, furious.

I crouch down in front of her, close enough to touch but not reaching for her yet. She’s like a wounded animal right now—one wrong move and she’ll bolt.

“Where else would I be, amore?”

“This isn’t your place! I’m not your fucking property!”

She’s falling apart right in front of me, and every instinct I have says to grab her, pin her down, make her listen. My palm itches with the need to connect with her ass, to remind her who the fuck she belongs to. But I force myself to breathe, to think past the red haze of anger and possession.

“Contessa,” I say, keeping my voice level despite the rage building in my chest. “You disappeared. No call. No text. Rocco couldn’t find you. What the fuck was I supposed to do?”

“Leave me alone!” She hurls one of the pregnancy tests at my head. I catch it mid-air, glancing at the double pink lines before tossing it aside. “I can’t—I can’t do this right now. I can’t look at you.”

Her voice breaks on the last word, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. She looks so damn small sitting there on the cold tile, knees pulled to her chest like she’s trying to disappear.

“Tough shit,” I growl, but there’s no real heat behind it. I can’t be angry at her, not when she’s looking at me like I’ve destroyed her world.

I move closer, ignoring her weak attempts to push me away, and lower myself to the bathroom floor beside her. The tile is cold and hard against my ass, but I don’t give a fuck.

“What are you doing?” she asks, voice thick with tears and confusion.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I reach for her, slowly, like I’m approaching a wild animal. “I’m sitting with you.”

She stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “On the bathroom floor? You? Mr. Ten-Thousand-Dollar-Suit is sitting on a bathroom floor?”