Chapter 9: Temptation in the Devil’s Arms
1342 Words
The first time Aria understood she was in real danger, it wasn’t because of Matteo’s enemies. It was the way he looked at her.
That night, the mansion felt too quiet. Sofia had fallen asleep early, after making Aria read to her twice—clinging to her hand like she was afraid Aria would vanish if she let go. Matteo had watched them from the doorway, silent, impossible to read. And that’s when Aria noticed it: something in him had shifted. Maybe he’d softened. Or maybe something inside him had finally snapped.
She stepped onto the balcony outside her room. The city lights blinked below, scattered like faraway stars. The air was sharp and cool against her skin; her silk robe might as well have been tissue paper. She just needed space. Needed to breathe. Lately, whenever Matteo was near, her body ignored all her careful rules.
She heard the door slide open behind her.
She didn’t turn around.
“You’re avoiding me,” he said, voice low and steady.
Her grip tightened on the railing. “I live in your house. Hard to avoid you.”
He walked toward her, slow and deliberate. He stopped so close she could feel his warmth at her back, but he didn’t touch her. Not yet.
“You left the dining room early.”
“I was tired.”
“You were unsettled.”
That stung. She turned, lifting her chin. “You watch too closely.”
“I have to,” he said. “In my world, what you miss can kill you.”
The words just hung there, heavier than the night.
Aria swallowed. “And what do you see when you look at me?”
His jaw tightened.
“A complication.”
She sucked in a breath before she could stop herself. “I’m an employee.”
“You stopped being just that weeks ago.”
Silence. Thick enough to drown in.
She hated that he was right.
Everything shifted after that night in the east wing—the night she overheard him fighting with one of his captains. She’d stumbled into the crosshairs of his world and, after that, Matteo started pulling her in. Asking her opinion. Letting her handle staff problems. Watching her. Testing her. Trusting her.
That was more dangerous than desire.
“You shouldn’t say things like that,” she whispered.
“Why not?”
“Because you don’t do anything halfway. Not business. Not war. Not control.”
His eyes darkened.
“And you think I would with you?”
Her heart thudded against her ribs.
“I think you don’t know how not to claim what you want.”
Something shifted again.
Matteo moved closer, erasing the space between them.
He lifted his hand—slowly, careful, giving her every chance to step away. She didn’t. His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, grazed her cheek. The touch was gentle, almost clinical, but it sent heat spiraling through her.
“You’re trembling,” he murmured.
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“I know.”
His thumb followed the line of her jaw, not possessive—at least, not yet. Just learning her, memorizing.
“That’s the problem,” he said, softer.
Her breath hitched. “You don’t scare me,” she tried again, but her voice shook.
“I should.”
His other hand found her waist, still moving slow. Still leaving her the option to stop this.
She didn’t.
Instead, she pressed her palms against his chest, feeling his heartbeat through his shirt. He was so steady, so in control—but his breathing had changed, too.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” she said.
“I don’t play.”
That made her shiver.
He leaned his forehead against hers. Their breaths tangled. The city lights blurred behind him, and all she could see was the way he looked at her: dark, consuming, but not reckless.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered.
Her lips parted.
The truth hovered, trembling on the edge.
She didn’t say it.
That was all the permission he needed.
He kissed her. Not rough, not rushed. Devastatingly slow. Testing her. Almost as if he wanted to see if she’d break.
She didn’t. She leaned closer instead, fingers knotting in his shirt, pulling him to her. That was all it took—the restraint between them snapped, just like that. His hand gripped her waist, slid up her spine, pulled her tight against him.
The kiss deepened. Heat washed away hesitation.
She could actually feel control unraveling.
But even then, he didn’t take over. He matched her pace. When she tilted her head, he followed. When her breath hitched, he slowed. This wasn’t conquest.
This was surrender, answering surrender.
Her pulse roared in her ears.
No one had ever kissed her like this—like she was something precious and dangerous, all at once.
When his lips found her jaw, then traced down to the hollow of her neck, she sucked in a sharp breath. His hand steadied her as her knees threatened to give out, fingers pressing into the small of her back.
“Matteo,” she whispered. Even his name sounded different now. Softer. Unarmored.
He froze, just for a second.
“Say it again.”
She hadn’t realized how much power she held until she saw the way he teetered, his control hanging by a thread.“Matteo.”
His breath warmed her skin. Relief, almost. Maybe even wonder.
“You have no idea what that does to me,” he said.
“Then show me.”
She surprised herself with that. The words just came out, bold and sure.
He searched her face for any sign of doubt—nothing. No fear, no shame. Just heat.
He scooped her up like it was nothing, carried her inside, never looked away. The door closed behind them with a soft click that somehow sounded huge.
He set her down on the bed, careful, hovering above her. Still asking, still waiting for her to say yes, even without words.
She didn’t hesitate. She pulled him down.
Their kiss was different now. Deeper, hungry, but not rushed. Not rough. His hands traced her, learned her, slow and deliberate. Every touch made her want more, but he didn’t hurry. They breathed together, sharing the air.
She wasn’t falling. She was choosing. That changed everything.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead touched hers. His voice sounded wrecked.
“If we do this, Aria… there’s no going back. No pretending we’re neutral.”
“I don’t want neutral.”
Saying it felt like leaping off a cliff.
He cupped her cheek, thumb running gentle along her jaw.
“You deserve someone with less baggage. Fewer enemies.”
She shook her head. “And you deserve someone who doesn’t care about that.”
For a second, something broke through his mask—something raw, almost fragile.
That’s when it hit her. This wasn’t just about wanting. It was about trust. And trust, in Matteo’s world, was rare. Rarer than love.
He kissed her again, slower this time. It felt safe. Steady. The kind of kiss that promised more than just passion. It promised her.
For a little while, nothing else existed. No rival families, no betrayals lurking in the dark, no blood-stained promises. Just them—finally admitting what they’d both felt from the beginning.
But down in the security room, the world was still spinning. A red alert flashed across the monitor. Some unknown car had stopped outside the gates. One of Matteo’s men wasn’t picking up.
Upstairs, Aria lay in tangled sheets, not knowing the choice she’d just made would bind her to Matteo’s world in ways she couldn’t even picture yet.
And Matteo—devil, widower, king of shadows—held her like she was the only thing he had left to lose.
Anyone who tried to take her from him would learn just how much that meant. And they’d pay for it.
- Writer
