Hate Me, Love Me (Ongoing)

Chapter 19

We're at some sort of underground club. I've never been inside of a club before. My grandfather would never let me. It's odd not having him here to chaperone my every move. He would have had Boris and Rurik drag me back home. Then he would lecture me about why it's not safe to this and that.

I felt a sense of freedom being away from my grandfather. Although I missed him greatly, it was nice to be able to make my own decisions. And here, it didn't matter if anyone recognized me. No one seemed to pay me or Mateo any mind.

A chill ran down my spine. I knew Mateo was watching me. I took a seat at the bar and asked for a glass of water. I thought about ordering a drink, but I've never had any and wouldn't even know what to order. So I figured water was the safest option.

"Watch her," I overheard Mateo tell Cyrus before he disappeared through the crowd.

Cyrus joined me at the bar and ordered a scotch. "You're playing a dangerous game, kid."

I set my glass of water down, giving him my full attention. I knew what I was doing was dangerous. But I'm not afraid.

"Just be careful, yes?"

I didn't miss the warning in his tone. I contemplated everything for a moment, and then I decided to order a cocktail. Cyrus watched me closely as I thanked the bartender and took a sip. My nose crinkled, and I nearly gagged at the taste.

Cyrus chuckled, shaking his head. "Not much of a drinker?" He asked while downing his drink with a straight face.

I shook my head, my face flushed with embarrassment. I tried the drink again, only to sputter the moment the alcohol touched my tongue. I didn't want it after that. Water tasted a whole lot better anyway.

Wondering where Mateo had gone, I looked around the club. Sweaty, drunken bodies danced to the EDM music playing. I saw one couple pop some sort of pill in their mouth and start making out. I quickly figured out it was drugs when I saw someone walking around passing out little baggies.

Cyrus must have looked to see what had caught my attention because suddenly, he was saying, "No."

I wasn't even thinking about trying drugs. I'm not stupid. But dancing did sound like fun. I leaped down from my chair and joined the crowd. I swayed my hips and closed my eyes, getting lost in the beat.

I opened my eyes when I felt someone grab my hips. Cyrus stood and started in my direction. I held out my hand to stop him when I turned to see it was a guy wanting to dance.

"Ana," Cyrus called firmly.

I looked over in his direction and flashed him a smile before circling my arms around the cute stranger. He had brown hair, blue eyes, and a thin mustache and stubbled chin.

He wasn't anywhere near as good looking as Mateo, but he was a great dancer. He rotated his hips with mine and leaned down to whisper in my ear.

"Ana," he murmured. "What a beautiful name."

This guy had the usual New York accent, and from the smell on his breath, he's definitely had a couple of drinks.

We danced along to the music, his hand sliding down my thigh. I had to grab his hand and redirect it back onto my waist. If he'd explored any further, he would have found my knife.

Again, his hand roamed. Except this time, down to my ass. I swatted his hand away, starting to become uncomfortable.

I happened to look up, and that's when I spotted Mateo up on the balcony. He was leaned over the edge, a dark drink in hand. His eyes were locked on to me.

He watched the stranger I was dancing with grind against me and run his hands all over my body. The muscle in Mateo's jaw tightened.

He didn't bother to pay attention to the man talking beside him. The bulky, balding man was a few inches shorter than Mateo but exuded the wealth and power of a giant. I eyed the armed men stationed by his side. He must be the owner of the club.

When Mateo was no longer looking at me, I decided to find another way to get his attention.

I wanted him to hear me. I deserve to be heard. I'm tired of everyone treating me like I have no backbone or that I can be controlled just because I don't speak.

I took an elevator all the way up to the third floor. And when the doors opened, a man with a gun instructed me to go back to the first floor.

Luckily, before things took a left, Cyrus appeared by my side. "I'd be careful how you speak to Mateo's fiancée."

The color drained from the guy's face. He didn't look so intimidating anymore. "My apologies."

I stuck my tongue out at the guy as Cyrus led us down the hall to where Mateo was. As soon as I looked back at Cyrus, I noted the frown on his face. Instantly, my tongue disappeared back into my mouth.

When we reached Mateo, he was visibly displeased to see me. He looked at Cyrus like he wanted to murder him. Cyrus swallowed.

The owner of the club rushed over to introduce himself. His eyes sparkled, and suddenly, I felt exposed in this dress. "And who might you be?"

Nervous and uncomfortable, I look to Mateo. He's not looking at me. He's staring at the man who won't stop licking his lips and staring at my boobs. "Doesn't matter," Mateo answers for me. "She's not a part of this deal."

They were having a meeting, and I'd stupidly interrupted. I've forgotten all about why I even came up here and what I had planned to do. The attention I was trying to get from Mateo is coming from a creep, whose eyes I want to gouge out.

"Why don't we add her to the deal," the creep suggests.

Now I see why Mateo didn't bring me with him. The owner of this club is a pervert.

Mateo's hand balls at his side. "She's not for sale," he growls before grabbing my wrist and forcing me down the hall. "Close the deal," he tells Cyrus, his hold tightening when I try to pull away from him.

He releases me when we are far enough to his liking. I step back, creating distance between us. Mateo's running his hands through his hair and pacing. I've never seen him so upset. Is it because of the dress? The guy I danced with? The fact that I'd interrupted his meeting and almost ruined whatever deal he was making?

Mateo's breaths are heavy and ragged. I'm caught off guard when he slams his fist into the wall. It was so hard that it put a hole in the wall. I jumped, trembling out of fear.

I watched as he took a breath, trying to regain his composure. Once he finally does, he turns to face me. He rubs at the bruises on his knuckles, my gaze flickering back up to his. I swallow. Then I take slow, cautious steps towards him.

He stands completely still as I take his bruised hand in mine. I examine the dark red and pink markings on his hand before looking up at him.

"I almost killed him," he mumbles. "The both of them." His voice is so low that I almost didn't hear him. He doesn't sound scared. In fact, he sounds calm. Eerily so. "I can handle you stealing my dog and ripping up my shit. I can even handle your defiance," he says, giving my dress a once over. "But what I can't handle is seeing another man touch you, or look at you like they want to fuck you."

Am I hearing things or does Mateo sound jealous? I don't know what to make of it. It's been weeks. Mateo has shown no signs of attraction or interest in me. At least I think. 

Something stirs in the pit of my stomach. Is this what butterflies feel like? No. It couldn't possibly. Not for him.

"Don't get me wrong, toppolina(little mouse), the abhorrence is still there. The mere thought of you ignites a fire in me that wants to engulf you in blackness. To see you burn."

His announcement of hatred towards me doesn't surprise me. I feel exactly the same way. It's what he says next that steals away my breath and confirms the butterflies I'm trying so desperately to deny exist. 

"But you are mine." He does something shocking. He takes the palm of his hand and taps his chest twice. "Mine," he repeats, possession in his tone of voice.

Stunned, my eyes grow wide. He just used sign language.