Deception. Betrayal. Mistrust.
It seems the closer Rayne gets to the truth, the more she finds herself wanting to run away from it. It's complex and terrifying-more than she ever fathomed.
New family members, good and bad, pop out at her like a br...
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𝗠atteo tossed open the door to Emmet's office at the Estate, marching in and seizing up his sister and her fiancé. Emmet stood by the window, one hand deep in his pocket, the other nursing a two-finger, condensing glass of Whiskey. He did not turn, merely peering at him through the reflection in the glass, barely acknowledging him.
Rayne instantly ran to Matteo's side, putting a hand on his forearm. Her empathetic, golden irises told him that, for whatever reason, he'd been called here for information that could only be bad. Rueben moved from his spot by Emmet's desk, but only to brush against his shoulder and take a seat on the couch across the room. He remained mute, his eyes glued to the floor.
"What is the meaning of this?" Matteo interrupted the silence, "Why was I called here?"
"It seems that my son has a big mouth," Emmet replied.
"A big mouth regarding what?"
Rayne tugged on the sleeve of his shirt, "Why don't we sit down and talk?"
Emmet spun at the sound of her voice, waving his hand over to where Rueben was sitting, clearly in agreement. Matteo allowed his sister to pull him, feeling as if everyone in the room was on the inside of some joke, but he made no comments as he found a spot on the far edge of the couch.
Rayne sat between him and Rueben, acting like a barrier.
Like a wall.
Like he would do something to him.
Matteo itched his bandages, wanting to rip them off and scratch at the raw skin left over after the doctors had peeled away the burns until he was a bleeding mess. He clenched his hands into fists and let them hang over his knees, knowing that he had a sister and a daughter to think about, even if the only person who currently lived in his mind was the one that got away.
Rayne offered him a subtle hand—a palm facing up on the edge of her thigh, sensing his unease. He thought against it for a brief second, not wanting to be the failure that couldn't even exist in a conversation with his former boss, but he eventually caved. He placed his hand in hers, encapsulating her feelings as his own while she did the same for him.
She squeezed, offering more support than he thought he needed.
"I'm sitting," he said, "Now, can someone tell me what's going on?"
"Like I said," Emmet placed his glass on his desk, "My son has a big mouth."
"What does that have to do with me—?"
"—and apparently, I have an even bigger-mouthed daughter-in-law," Emmet side-eyed Rayne.
Matteo glanced between the steam-line, pissing contest between Emmet and his sister, noting the anger hidden in Emmet's eyes and the defiance lining Rayne's. He went to stand, to defend his sister because clearly, this battle of dominance had nothing to do with the topic at hand, but as he tried, his sister tugged him back down and shook her head.
