CHAPTER EIGHT
Eyes That Linger
The dress was a mistake.
Seraphina realized it the moment she stepped into the main hall.
It was black. Silk. Cut simply but it moved like a whisper over skin. Alessandro's choice. He had left it on the bed with a note that said Tonight we remind them who you are.
Power wrapped in fabric.
She felt it the second she put it on. The way her spine straightened. The way danger leaned closer.
What she did not expect was Matteo.
He stood near the far wall, arms crossed, posture rigid as ever. The right hand. The shadow. The man who never looked twice at anything that was not a threat.
Until now.
His eyes found her.
And stayed.
Not hunger. Not leering.
Recognition.
Something slow and unreadable crossed his face. His jaw tightened. His gaze dragged down, then snapped back up like he had touched fire.
Seraphina felt it.
The attention landed on her skin like heat.
She did not look away.
Neither did he.
Alessandro entered moments later, energy shifting the room instantly. Conversations quieted. Heads turned. The king had arrived.
His eyes went straight to her.
He stopped walking.
Just for half a second.
Then he smiled. Small. Dangerous. Satisfied.
He crossed the room and took her hand.
You look exactly how I imagined, he said softly.
She arched a brow.
That sounds like premeditation.
It was.
His thumb brushed her knuckles. Possessive. Public.
Matteo looked away.
Too late.
The meeting was formal. Allies and enemies pretending not to be either. Low voices. Expensive liquor. Threats wrapped in compliments.
Seraphina played her part flawlessly.
She spoke when needed. Listened when it mattered. Smiled just enough.
But she felt Matteo's gaze like a weight.
Every time she moved. Every time she laughed quietly at something Alessandro said. Every time Alessandro leaned close to murmur something meant only for her.
Matteo watched.
He should not have.
He knew it.
He hated it.
It happened when she crossed the room alone.
Alessandro had been pulled into conversation by two men arguing territory. Seraphina moved toward the balcony doors for air.
Matteo followed without thinking.
He stopped a careful distance away.
You should not be alone, he said.
She turned.
I am never alone here.
His eyes flicked over her again. Slower this time. Less guarded.
That dress is not practical.
She smiled faintly.
Neither is loyalty in this world. Yet here you are.
That earned a sharp exhale.
You should be careful, he said.
Of what.
Of how you look at him. Of how he looks at you.
Her smile faded.
Is that concern or warning.
Both.
She studied him.
You have never spoken to me like this.
You have never looked like this.
There it was.
The honesty slipped before he could stop it.
The silence stretched.
She broke it gently.
Matteo.
Do not.
His jaw flexed.
I know who he is.
So do I.
I know what he does to people he wants.
He does not own me.
Matteo laughed once. Bitter.
Not yet.
That pricked something sharp in her chest.
And you, she asked quietly. What do you want.
The question hung between them like a blade.
Matteo stepped closer. Just one step.
Something he never did.
I want you to survive this, he said. And I want him to not ruin you.
Her pulse kicked.
You think you could protect me better.
His eyes darkened.
I think I would not pretend you are a weakness.
Before she could respond, Alessandro's voice cut in.
Seraphina.
They turned.
Alessandro stood near the doorway, expression calm. Too calm.
Matteo stepped back instantly.
Apologies, boss. I was just ensuring she was safe.
Alessandro's gaze flicked between them. Sharp. Measuring.
I have that covered.
He came to Seraphina and placed a hand at her lower back.
Claiming.
Matteo's jaw clenched.
The rest of the night moved like a slow burn.
Alessandro did not leave her side again.
Too close. Too attentive. Too deliberate.
He noticed everything.
When they finally returned to the private wing, the door barely closed before he spoke.
What did Matteo say to you.
She stiffened.
Nothing inappropriate.
That is not what I asked.
She turned to face him.
He warned me about you.
Alessandro laughed softly.
That is rich.
He said you would ruin me.
The laughter died.
And you believed him.
No.
But he meant it.
Alessandro stepped closer.
Matteo forgets his place sometimes.
Does he.
Yes.
Or maybe he sees something you do not want to admit.
Alessandro's eyes hardened.
Be careful.
With what.
With triangulating loyalty and desire, he said coldly. That is how people get killed.
Her voice softened.
Are you jealous.
His silence was answer enough.
He reached for her, fingers sliding into her hair, tilting her head back.
Do not make me compete with my own shadow.
She met his gaze.
Then do not treat me like something that can be taken.
His grip loosened.
For a moment, something like uncertainty crossed his face.
Across the hall, unseen by either of them, Matteo stood still in the dark.
Listening.
Knowing he had already crossed a line he could never uncross.
This was no longer just loyalty.
It was longing.
And in this house built on violence, that was the most dangerous thing of all.