left me to be raised by a monster. A man who clearly never wanted me. A man who didn’t love anyone but himself. She died. He changed. I begged for the day that he wouldn’t look at me with pain in his eyes.
“Matteo?”
The concern in Mae’s voice grated on my nerves. It wasn’t her fault. I appreciated her need to protect me but I couldn’t help it. “Don’t,” I snapped. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”
Mae raised an eyebrow. “You need to let me be concerned for you, my love. You can’t deal with this on your own.”
Maybe not. But I would fucking try. My nerves raced through me. It was the same thing every time I saw my dad. He judged. I became angry. Never proud of what I had succeeded in, he told me I could always do better. I could always be better.
“Stop trying to handle everything by yourself.” Mae grabbed my hands, kissing each of my knuckles.
That small touch calmed me.
“It’s all I’ve ever done. I don’t know how to ask for help,” I mumbled, needing to get this meeting over with.
“We’re in this together. You hurt. I hurt.”
“Fuck I love you.” I kissed her hard on the mouth, breathing in the love she had for me, deep down into my lungs.
She sighed, wrapping her arms around my middle. “I love you.” She winked. “Master.”
Shit that was hot. My body buzzed. I kissed her once again and braced myself for the onslaught of seeing my dad.
We reached the penthouse floor, being met by two of my dad’s bodyguards.
“My son,” a deep booming voice vibrated through me.
I turned to the sound coming from down the hall. “Father.”
The large man walked towards us, stopping when his gaze landed on Marketa. “Ah. You must be Miss Dobry.” He extended his hand. “I’m Edwin Santos.”
Mae returned the handshake.
He frowned. “Do I know you?”
“I don’t think so.” Mae bristled beside me, wrapping her fingers around my arm.
“Are you sure about that?” My dad questioned, smoothing a hand through his dark hair.
“Mae?” I didn’t know what he was getting at.
“I…do you know my dad maybe?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“Hmm…” my dad rubbed his jaw. “Yes,” he snapped his fingers. “Jakob Dobry?”
Mae nodded.
“That’s right. I knew I recognized your last name from somewhere.” He laughed.
I rolled my eyes. “You researched who she is. Stop bullshitting around the truth and admit it.”
My dad’s gaze slowly slid to mine, his dark eyes hardening. “Fine. But I do know her father.”
I pulled Mae alongside me, walking past my dad. “Are we going to have this meeting in the hallway?” I called out over my shoulder when my dad didn’t budge.
“I’m not fond of this attitude, boy,” my father switched to Spanish, his words taking on a bite of contempt.
“Well get used to it, father,” I said, my words dripping with sarcasm.
“It seems, Marketa,” he said, speaking in English. “That you need to put a chain on my son’s anger.”
“No offense, sir, but I don’t need to anything when that anger isn’t geared towards me.”
My lips pulled into a small smile, thankful for the woman who had my back.
My dad glanced between us. “Well this is going to be fun.”
“Matteo, I’m sorry.” Mae chewed her bottom lip.
“I know, pet.” I kissed her softly on the mouth and spoke low enough so only she could hear. “Don’t speak unless I say.”
She nodded.
“Good girl,” I praised, grateful she didn’t ask any questions. She knew I would explain later but right now, I needed to dominate her in ways she never imagined.
She stood by my side, looking down at the floor, submitting. So fucking submissive.
“Interesting,” my dad said, glancing at Mae’s stance. “I see you have taken use of my training whether you like it or not.”
I chewed my inner cheek, forcing myself not to lash out at my father for fear of scaring Mae. “Why did you call me here?” I asked instead.
“I wanted to meet the woman that brought my son to his knees.” My father grinned, opening the double set of doors.
Fucker.
Mae kept by my side, holding tight onto my arm.
“How are you doing?” I whispered in her ear.
“Don’t worry about me, Sir,” she answered softly.
God, I loved her.
“Now tell me,” my dad walked to the bar at the far corner of the large hotel suite. “How did you two meet?”
“At the side of the road,” I mumbled.
“Right.” He chuckled. “I’ve met many women there before.”
I wouldn’t doubt it. And people thought I was a sadistic bastard.