His addidictive sin

GALA SURPRISE

Author's POV

He led her towards the deck and inside the yacht. The music inside was soft and calm; around them, glasses clinked and conversation went on.

Matteo's attention had shifted entirely to her.

Riana had been watching the crowd when he suddenly turned her around to face him.

"Would you have this dance with me?" Matteo stood before her, one hand extended.

For a moment, she simply stared at it. "Do I have a choice?"

in his; his fingers closed around hers, warm and firm.

He led her towards the center of the dance floor. Riana suddenly became aware of everything: the eyes and whispers.

The fact that she was about to dance with Matteo Blackwood, while some of the most powerfu

The corner of his mouth lifted. "No."

"Then why ask?" she muttered.

"Because I enjoy you pretending you're capable of refusing me." She placed her handl people in the room watched.

But the moment his hand settled on her waist, it was as if the room disappeared, and it was only her and him.

The music still played, people still moved around, and glasses clinked. But none of it seemed important anymore.

Matteo drew her closer. "Relax, Ri."

"I am relaxed." He looked down at her. "You look like you're preparing for execution." She glared at him. "You're making everything worse."

"I have that effect on people," he muttered.

"I've noticed." His quiet chuckle vibrated between them.

Riana wasn't sure if Matteo was actually a good dancer or if he simply had a way of making her feel like she was.

Every step came naturally; every time she stumbled slightly, his hand tightened around hers before anyone could notice.

By the time she looked up at him, his eyes were already on her, staring deeply into her.

He was looking at her as though he had forgotten there was an entire room around them, just like her.

Her breath caught. "What?" she asked. Matteo didn't answer immediately; his gaze slowly traveled over her face slowly, almost thoughtfully.

"I was wondering something."

"And that is?" She waited. Matteo tilted his head slightly, studying her beneath the soft golden lights.

"I was wondering if you knew what you looked like right now."

Riana felt her ears burn. "And what exactly do I look like?"

"Like trouble." Riana rolled her eyes. "That's your compliment?"

"I'm not finished." Something in his voice made her quiet. Matteo's eyes lowered briefly before returning to hers.

"Your hair catches the light like gold," he said quietly. "And your eyes..."

Riana's breath stopped. Matteo seemed to search for the right words. "Your eyes are strange."

Her eyebrows pulled together. "Strange?"

"Beautifully strange."

She seemed confused. "That's not helping."

"I'm trying to find a color for them."

"There is a color."

"No." His thumb brushed absently against her hand. "There isn't." She stared at him.

Matteo continued. "Green isn't enough." The teasing expression had disappeared from his face now.

"They look different depending on where you're standing. Sometimes they're dark, sometimes they almost look like glass when the light touches them."

Riana could feel her heart doing something incredibly stupid inside her chest. "And you've spent enough time looking at them to know that?"

His gaze remained on hers. "More than I should have." For once, she had no response.

The music continued around them. Matteo moved her gently across the floor, and Riana realized that she hadn't looked anywhere else in several minutes.

She felt ridiculous. This was Matteo, the man who r***d her on their first meeting and didn't give her space to breathe.

And yet, standing there with his hand around her waist and his eyes fixed on her like she was something worth looking at...

She almost forgot herself. Almost.

"You clean up nicely too," she muttered.

His brow lifted. "Just nicely?"

"Don't let it get to your head."

"Too late."

She smiled despite herself.

Matteo noticed, of course he did. His expression softened.

The song eventually came to an end, but Matteo didn't immediately let go of her hand.

Riana looked around and suddenly remembered where she was: the crowded ballroom, the unfamiliar faces, and the suffocating feeling that had been slowly building inside her chest.

"I need some air," she said. Matteo studied her. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. I just..." She glanced around. Too many people and too many eyes.

"I'll be back."

He seemed reluctant to let her go. "Don't disappear." Riana gave him a small smile.

"No promises."

She walked away before he could reply.

---

Riana had no idea where she was going.

She only knew she needed to get away from the ballroom.

The corridors outside were quieter, lined with expensive paintings and golden wall lamps. She had intended to find the restroom, but after taking two wrong turns, she realized she was completely lost.

"Perfect," she muttered. She turned another corner and stopped.

An older man stood at the end of the corridor.

He was staring out of one of the large windows overlooking the water, a glass of whiskey resting loosely in his hand.

Riana recognized him immediately. She didn't need to be told.

Matteo's father.

There was no mistaking the resemblance between them. The same dark features, the same intimidating presence.

Except where Matteo carried his authority quietly, his father seemed to carry something colder. Something heavier.

She considered turning around, but it was too late.

"Riana." Her name stopped her. Slowly, she turned back. "I didn't realize you knew my name."

The older man faced her fully. "I make it my business to know the names of people who enter my son's life."

There was something about the way he said it that made her uncomfortable.

She forced a polite smile and attempted to walk past him.

"You're enjoying yourself?"

Riana stopped. She turned slightly. "I'm sorry?"

"The party." He gestured vaguely towards the ballroom. "The dress and the attention."

Riana's expression hardened slightly. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

His lips twitched.

Ah, there it was—the arrogance Matteo had inherited from somewhere.

Except Matteo wore his like armor, while his father wore his like a weapon.

"You're different from what I expected."

"Should I be flattered?"

"No."

The answer came so quickly that she almost laughed.

Riana folded her arms. "Then I'll save you the trouble and leave."

"You seem to have misunderstood something."

She looked at him.

The man took a slow sip from his drink.

"My son has always had a tendency to become interested in things that entertain him."

Her stomach tightened, but she said nothing.

"But eventually," he continued, "he gets bored."

Riana's face remained perfectly still. Inside, however, something had shifted.

"What exactly are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that you shouldn't mistake temporary interest for importance."

The words landed harder than she expected, and she hated that.

She hated that a part of her had already been thinking the same thing.

His eyes traveled briefly over her. "You've been brought into a world you don't understand. Expensive parties. Private yachts. Powerful people."

"And?"

"And girls like you often make the mistake of believing that because a man opens a door for them, they suddenly belong in the house."

Silence.

For a second, Riana genuinely couldn't believe what she had heard.

The man continued.

"My son isn't the type to stick, Miss Riana. Whatever arrangement the two of you have made will end eventually. Don't get carried away and start imagining yourself to be something you're not."

The corridor went completely quiet.

Riana smiled.

It wasn't a happy smile; it was small and sharp.

"Are you finished?" She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her breakdown, even if what he had said had hurt her deeply.

Riana shrugged again. "I don't particularly care what Matteo's intentions are. As long as I'm getting what I need from this arrangement, why should I?"

There was a flicker of surprise in his expression.

Good. She wanted him surprised.

"You don't know me," she continued. "And I certainly don't need your permission to be here."

"You're being naive."

"Maybe."

She stepped around him.

"And I don't care." Riana continued walking.

Her heels clicked against the marble floor.

She didn't stop, not until she had turned the corner. Then her smile disappeared.

Her chest hurt, which was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. Why should she care about what his father thought?

Why should the man's words have found their way beneath her skin so easily?

Maybe Matteo was using her. She swallowed.

Of course he was. This had always been an arrangement.

She knew that. She had even agreed to it.

So why did hearing it from someone else make her feel so foolish?

Why had she let herself forget?

Riana wasn't watching where she was going.

So when she collided with something hard, she stumbled backwards.

A hand immediately caught her. "Careful."

She froze.

Matteo. Slowly, she looked up.

His expression changed the moment he saw her face. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Ri." The way he said her name made something inside her hurt even more. She pulled away slightly.

"I'm fine." He didn't look convinced. "What happened?"

"Why do you keep asking me that?"

"Because you look like you're about to commit murder." Matteo's eyes narrowed. "Who upset you?"

"No one."

"Riana." He called her by her full name.

She looked away. For a moment, she considered telling him.

Asking him if what his father had said was true.

If she was simply something temporary to him, something entertaining.

But she couldn't, because what if he said yes?

She wasn't ready to hear that.

"I just want to leave."

Matteo's expression softened. "Leave the gala?"

She nodded.

"It feels..." She exhaled. "Suffocating in here."

He studied her for several seconds, then he held out his hand. "Come with me."

Riana looked at him. "Where?"

"You said you wanted to leave." He took her hand. "I'm taking you somewhere better."

Matteo led her through corridors she hadn't seen before. "Where are we going?"

"You ask too many questions."

"And you answer too few."

"That's why we work so well together."

"We don't work well together."

He glanced over his shoulder. "Keep telling yourself that." Riana rolled her eyes, but she followed him.

Eventually, Matteo pushed open a door, and Riana stepped inside. For a moment, she forgot how to breathe.

They were outside, high above the water. The noise from the gala had disappeared behind them.

The night stretched endlessly before her, the dark sea reflecting fragments of light from the yacht. In the distance, she could see the faint outline of the Greek islands beneath the moonlight.

And then... a firework exploded across the sky.

Riana gasped.

Gold scattered across the darkness; another followed and then another. The sky slowly filled with color.

For the first time that night, she smiled a genuine, happy smile.

"Oh my God."

Matteo stood beside her.

Riana stepped closer to the railing. "This is beautiful."

"Yeah, it is."

She didn't notice he wasn't looking at the fireworks. Her eyes remained fixed on the sky as colors exploded above them. "It's so pretty."

"Yeah, so unbelievably pretty."

She laughed softly. "You've said that twice." Matteo didn't answer.

Riana finally turned towards him and found him staring at her—not the fireworks. Her. "What?"

He looked completely unashamed. "I said it's pretty." She stared at him, then realized he was talking about her.

Her cheeks warmed. "You're impossible."

"That's what you always say."

"Because it's true." Another firework exploded behind her.

For a moment, Matteo simply looked at her, the colors reflected faintly in her green eyes. Her hair had loosened slightly from its bun, a few strands falling around her face.

And Matteo thought that perhaps the sky had competition tonight.

Then,

BANG!!!

The sound tore through the air. Riana jumped.

For half a second, she thought it was another firework.

Then another sound followed. Closer.

BANG!!

Matteo's entire body changed; the softness disappeared from his face. His hand immediately caught Riana and pulled her behind him.

"Matteo..."

"Get down!" He shouted as another gunshot rang out.

The music from the gala stopped; screams erupted somewhere below.

And just like that, the beautiful night was gone.