"What the fuck happened?" Matteo hooks his thumb under my chin, forcing our eyes to meet. "Tell me. Now."
Tears fall as I struggle to form a sentence.
Matteo looks at me with anger, frustration, and worry—as if he doesn't know what to do at the moment.
Dante enters the office looking from Matteo to me.
"What do I do?" Matteo asks.
"First, cover her up." Dante picks my coat off the floor and drapes it over me, then gently guides me to a chair.
Guilt wells in Matteo's eyes. "How the fuck did this happen?" he mutters, running his hand through his hair in a tight grip.
"We're sorry we weren't there for you, princess," Dante whispers, holding me carefully, avoiding my side.
"Dolce peccato, I—" Matteo is cut off by Bella opening the door.
"Mr. Moretti."
"What the fuck do you want?" he snaps, furious.
"The investor is here," she replies calmly, ignoring his tone.
"Take care of it. Tell him Nina—just make something up. I can't deal with him right now." Bella nods and quietly leaves the room.
"Nina, you're going to tell me what the fuck happened. Right now. No more lies."
I look up into Matteo's angry glare. He's not backing down until I speak.
"My mom borrowed money again. I paid off the last one with the money you gave me, but now she borrowed more. I don't even know what she's using it for."
Dante gently pats my back, sensing how panicked I am. "Who did this to you, princess?"
"I don't know him. He said Stella told him to scare me a little."
"And if you don't give her the money, then what?" Dante asks.
"If I don't pay it back before the end of next week, my mom and I will die."
"Fuck!" Matteo curses. "Get me Stella's info. Dante, take her home and stay with her. I need to sort this out."
>>>
Dante has been staying with me for a week now, only leaving to get a change of clothes.
I haven't heard from Matteo. I also haven't been going to the club—he told me to rest at home.
My rib is fully healed. And strangely, I feel… happy. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I feel safe.
Dante hasn't touched me these past few days—not even a kiss. He's afraid he'll hurt me.
Tonight, after a long phone call with Matteo, Dante walks into my room and announces it's bedtime.
I decide to be a bad girl tonight and do something with Slutty–Nina.
I touch my ribs, wincing slightly, pretending I'm in pain. He rushes to my side, and I pull him down, slamming my lips onto his.
I pull him to me, kissing him deeply before pushing him on the bed. I climb onto his lap, my knees on either side of his hips.
With a groan, he lifts my shirt. I raise my arms, letting him take it off. His mouth is on my breasts instantly, sucking and biting my nipples.
I jerk forward with a moan, the sensation sending heat straight to his hard-on.
"Fuck! Wait, princess, you're hurt."
"I'm fine. It's been a week—I promise I'm okay. See…" I guide his hand to press on my side, showing him I'm healed.
Still, he hesitates. So I grind against his cock, teasing him.
He sucks in a breath, lust clouding his eyes, but still unsure.
I keep grinding on his rock-hard length, enjoying the feeling. His hands slide down my legs, then he gently positions me under him.
"You sure you're okay?" he asks, searching my face for any sign of pain or discomfort.
"I'm fine, I promise." I pull him down for a kiss as his hand slips into my shorts, removing them.
His fingers brush against my wetness, sliding inside me.
"So wet for me," he murmurs, making me arch my back. But he holds me down, thrusting his fingers in slowly.
My need builds fast. "Please, I need more. Please, Daddy, give me more," I whimper, grinding on his fingers.
"Take what I give you, princess," he growls, adding a third finger, pumping faster.
"Do you want Daddy to make you cum?"
"Yes, please! Yes, Daddy! Fuck me—make me cum."
My body burns as he strips off his briefs and crawls onto the bed.
"Ass up, face down," he commands, and I obey quickly.
With my face on the bed and ass in the air, I can't see him—but I sure as hell could feel him.
The head of his cock pushes into me slowly. He holds my waist, then thrusts in deeper.
He pulls out fully—then slams back in.
"Yes! Fuck, yes!" I scream, gripping the bed sheets tight.
He leans down, kissing my shoulder, then my back. He grabs a fistful of my hair, tugging until my back arches.
His thrusts grow faster, deeper. I meet each one, lifting my hips in time with his.
Then he surprises me—his thumb teases my asshole, making me shiver and gasp. He keeps playing with it while pounding into me from behind.
I'm a moaning mess.
"That's it, princess. Cum for me," he groans.
My orgasm hits hard, making me jerk and cry out as he fucks me through it. The intensity leaves me breathless, black dots dancing in my vision.
But he doesn't stop.
His thrusts turn wild—short, hard and relentless—until the mattress shifts with every slam.
Finally, he slows, moaning my name as he cums.
He flips me over, kissing me deeply, resting his forehead on mine as we try to catch our breath.
"Let me clean you up," he says, disappearing into the bathroom. He returns with a towel and briefs, gently cleaning me.
He climbs into bed and pulls me close, wrapping his arms around me. I feel safe and free.
But the thought lingers...
The week is up. If Matteo doesn't give me the money, what happens to me?
What happens to us?
The doorbell rings.
I sit up and glance at the clock. 11:45 p.m.
Before I can move, Matteo is already on his feet.
"Stay here," he commands, pulling on his shirt.
The doorbell rings again.