Matteo looked at Antonioni Battaglia and fought a wave of rage. The man had no idea who he was dealing with. Matteo was a Corretti, the capability to commit hideous acts was a part of his DNA. More than that, Matteo had actually done it before. Had embraced the violence. Both with cold precision, and in the heat of rage. The temptation to do it again was strong. Instead, he leaned forward and adjusted a glass figurine that his grandmother had had commissioned for him. A perfect model of his first hotel. Not one of the Corretti Hotels, the first hotel he’d bought with his own personal fortune. “And what exactly is that?” Matteo asked, leaning back in his office chair. “My daughter. You defiled her. She’s much less valuable to me now, which means you’d better damn well marry her and make good on the deal I cut with your grandfather, or the Correttis won’t be doing any trading out of Sicily.” “My mistake, I thought Alessia’s body belonged to her, not you.” “I’m an old-fashioned man.”
What do You think about A Hunger For The Forbidden?
