My Sinful Desire

At the dinner

I followed Matthew side by side as the perfect wife he wanted me to be. He held my arm. Although I was with Matthew, my eyes were still searching for someone else in the hall. I looked around every corner, looking for Archie.

Someone came up behind me and held my hand.

"Hello, Mom. Hello, Dad."

I felt an electric shock from his touch and smiled back at him. It was Archie.

"I'll be right back," he said before walking away.

I still held Matthew's hand as he walked over to a couple.

"Hi, Mr. Drew," Matthew greeted the tall man standing beside his wife as they shook hands. "This is my wife, Elena."

I exchanged a handshake with Mr. Drew and his wife.

"Nice to meet you all."

We walked over to the table and sat down. I sat beside Matthew as his trophy wife. My dress drew every eye in the hall. People kept looking at me. Some gasped, while others winked at me. At some point, it became uncomfortable. I couldn't tell if they were staring at my dress or at something else.

Matthew sat upright with one arm resting on his chair, radiating an arrogant, untouchable energy that demanded absolute submission from everyone around him. He spoke loudly over the clinking of silverware and glasses, gesturing with a glass of scotch as he bragged about his expanded drug territories, the newly secured shipping routes, and the rival factions he had crushed over the winter.

The men around the table listened carefully, nodding along, but their eyes often drifted from Matthew to me.

I kept my chin high, wearing the empty smile Matthew demanded from his prize possession, hiding the bruises beneath my dress and the fear behind my smile.

Directly opposite me sat Archie.

He looked like a lethal prince in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit. His hair was neatly styled, and the crisp white collar of his shirt stood out against his tanned jawline.

Unlike the older bosses, he wasn't part of the loud conversation. Instead, he slowly swirled a glass of Cabernet while his dark eyes stayed fixed on mine. The intensity of his stare made the entire hall feel hotter.

I couldn't help lowering my head.

"The northern ports are completely locked down," Matthew barked, lightly slamming his fist on the table and making the wine glasses shake. "Nobody moves a single gram across that coastline without my personal seal. We own the supply chain from the docks to the streets."

Under the cover of the long tablecloth that reached the floor, I suddenly felt something cold.

My breath caught in my throat.

Archie stretched his leg beneath the table. His foot brushed against my ankle before slowly sliding upward along my calf.

I froze.

My fingers tightened around the stem of my wine glass until my knuckles turned white.

Archie's foot moved higher in slow, deliberate strokes that sent a jolt through my body. His eyes never left mine. He calmly took another sip of his wine, his expression unreadable, completely hiding the dangerous game he was playing beneath his father's nose.

I enjoyed his touch, but I was terrified at the same time. One mistake, one sharp gasp, or even a dropped fork would expose us and end everything in bloodshed.

"Isn't that right, Elena?" Matthew suddenly asked, turning toward me.

Before I could answer, his hand gripped my bare shoulder with frightening possessiveness.

At that exact moment, Archie's foot slid even higher, the smooth leather of his shoe pressing against my inner thigh. The heat of his touch through the silk clashed with the cold weight of Matthew's hand on my shoulder.

My pulse pounded wildly in my throat. I felt trapped between the husband who claimed to own me and the stepson determined to steal me away.

"Yes, Matthew," I replied, my voice surprisingly steady as I looked straight into Archie's eyes.

I quickly forced a fake smile to hide everything I was feeling.

Just then, the maids began serving dinner, and our table was served as well.

I kept my eyes on the fork in my right hand, forcing my fingers to stay steady as I picked at the food on my plate. Every movement took all my concentration. I focused on the pattern on the plate, the glass in front of me, anything that would stop me from losing control.

To my right, Matthew was still talking. He was telling the older bosses from Milan and Genoa about the latest shipment that had come through the southern docks. They nodded as they listened, completely unaware of the silent battle happening just inches away.

Under the table, hidden by the long tablecloth, Archie didn't stop. He stretched his leg farther until his foot brushed against mine. The slow movement sent heat through my body. His shoe slid over my dress, moving higher along my inner thigh. Using the edge of his shoe, he pushed the fabric up little by little, leaving more of my skin exposed as I fought to keep a straight face.

I bit down on my lower lip so hard I could taste blood. It was the only thing stopping a gasp from slipping out in the middle of Matthew's speech. My breathing turned uneven, but I tried to hide it by taking small sips of water.

Everything around me felt overwhelming. I looked across the table, my eyes filled with anger and frustration, but Archie only looked back at me, calm as ever. That made everything even worse.

A sharp clang echoed through the hall.

Someone had dropped a fork.

Every conversation at the table paused for a second.

My heart stopped.

Matthew slowly turned his head toward me.

His eyes narrowed.

"Are you alright?"

I forced a smile and nodded.

"I'm fine."

His gaze stayed on me for another moment, as if he were trying to read every thought in my head.

Then his eyes drifted lower.

Straight to the edge of the tablecloth.

My pulse pounded so hard I thought everyone could hear it.

Archie didn't move.

Neither did I.

For one terrifying second, I was sure Matthew was about to pull the tablecloth aside.

Instead, he leaned back in his chair and picked up his glass.

The conversation started again.

I finally breathed.

Just as I thought the danger had passed, my phone vibrated inside my purse.

One message.

I carefully slipped it out beneath the table.

Archie: Don't look at me. He's watching.