Keeping My Captive by Angela Snyder
CHAPTER30
Aria
WHAT MATEO TOLD me right before we exited the car gnaws at me until it feels like a festering wound in my gut. We deal in what people desire the most. And we murder anyone who gets in our way.
I know Mateo is a bad man. Deep down I know he does bad things. So maybe it’s for the best that I don’t know exactly what it is he does.
It could be drugs. It could be arms dealing. It could be anything really.
And this friend of his that I’m about to meet, the man who is hosting this party for charity, of all things, is corrupt too. Just as devious as my very own captor.
Mateo’s hand is on my lower back as he guides me toward the grand entrance of the house complete with marble pillars and tall, intricately hard-carved arched doors. A man in a suit opens the door for us, and we enter.
And if I thought the outside of this place was nice, it didn’t even prepare me for the inside. A huge, beautiful crystal chandelier is above us in the round entryway with two grand staircases on either side of the room leading up to the second floor. A small oval table in the center features a delicate vase with fresh cut roses and greenery, and the smell is divine.
“This way, Mr. Navarro,” the man, who let us in the front door, says, and we follow closely on his heels.
I glance behind and realize Mateo brought several of his guards along with us. Their eyes canvas the area, searching for trouble. And when none of them seem on edge or spooked, it puts my nerves at ease. Even though it might thwart my plans of making a phone call, I do like the fact that we’ll be protected. Mateo has let on before that people are constantly trying to knock him off his proverbial throne and take away his empire. He has enemies everywhere, or so he alludes to frequently.
Lavish art and paintings litter the hallway as we’re led to a big open room. There is a string quartet playing music softly in the corner as people mill about, talking and laughing. Everyone is dressed to the nines in designer dresses and tailored suits.
I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. I figured all sorts of mafia men would be standing around with their guns out, having pissing contests, but none of that is here. This looks like a reputable event for charity, and I couldn’t be more pleased.
An older gentleman approaches us with a huge smile on his face. He must be in his seventies with thinning, gray hair and a trimmed white beard. “Mateo,” he declares with open arms.
I’m taken aback when Mateo actually hugs him. “Cristóbal, good to see you,” he says.
The man’s blue eyes lock onto me. “And this must be your plus one,” he says with a knowing grin.
“Ah, yes. This is Aria,” Mateo says, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “Aria, this is Cristóbal.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say to the man. He holds out his hand, and I take it.
“Ella es hermosa, Mateo,” he comments while placing a kiss on the back of my hand. “Bien hecho.”
“Gracias,” Mateo replies.
“The two of you should go mingle. Enjoy the party,” Cristóbal says before walking away from us.
“What did he say?” I whisper when he’s not within earshot.
“He called you beautiful,” Mateo tells me.
I can’t help but smile. “How long have you known him?”
“Since I was a teenager. He helped me build my empire,” Mateo explains.
And then I realize there’s something I never asked Mateo before. Since he seems open to questions, I guess now is the perfect time. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-five.”
I look up at him and take in his handsome face and strong features. I wouldn’t have guessed he was over thirty, so I’m surprised at the age difference between us. “You don’t look thirty-five,” I assure him.
“And you don’t look twenty-one,” he counters.
“Do I look younger or older?” I ask.
“Sometimes both.”
“Both?” I ask with a quirked brow.
“Yes.” He leans in close, his arm caging me against the nearby wall, while murmuring in my ear, “Younger when you’re lying on your stomach on my bed with your hair up, reading. You look so damn innocent.” His warm breath skates across my neck, and I shiver. “And then, on nights like this, you look older, sophisticated, and sexy.”
“You think I’m sexy?” I whisper conspiratorially.
“Oh yes. Very sexy,” he whispers back.
Mateo pulls back slightly, his mouth merely inches away from mine. My tongue darts out to wet my lips, and his dark gaze focuses on the movement. It feels like electrical currents are flowing between us, like what you might feel right before lightning strikes. My heart is racing overtime as his lips grow closer to mine. Time seems to stand impossibly still as I feel him ghost his lips across mine, teasing in a barely-there kiss. I could stop this if I wanted to, but I don’t want to. The lines have been blurring for a while, my resistance waning with every passing day that we spend together.
Just as his lips brush over mine, someone calls out, “Mateo!”
And just like that, the spell has been effectively broken. Mateo squeezes his eyes shut before reluctantly pulling away from me. He turns to the man who called his name and flashes him a strained smile. “I’ll be right back,” he tells me before walking away.
I stand there, plastered against the wall, trying desperately to calm my erratic heartbeat. I swear I’m going to end up with a murmur.
I surreptitiously watch from the other side of the room as Mateo mingles with a group of people. They all seem enthralled by his presence, and I hate to say it, but I know exactly how they feel.
The kiss we almost shared not only thrilled me and scared me at the same time, but also solidified in my mind what must be done. I need to call my family before I grow too attached to my captor and never want to leave.
