Chapter 133

Genevieve’s gaze shifted repeatedly—from the note Matteo had handed her, to the battered wrists he held out, and finally settling on his face. Her challenging look caught his breath, making it hitch in his throat. She bit her lower lip, tugging it gently between her teeth, a subtle but deliberate gesture. Her eyes swept over Matteo’s features, tracing the line of his throat, then down to the exposed skin of his forearms and biceps, finally resting on the swollen, bruised knuckles of his hands. At last, she exhaled sharply—a ragged breath that betrayed how difficult it was for her to restrain herself, just as it was for him to be unable to use his own hands.

“No,” she said at last, her voice cutting through the tension like a growl. Matteo’s throat tightened in response. She giggled softly, a teasing sound that made his chest tighten. “I have to look at these first, Matteo. I might have questions, and given your penchant for violence, who knows when I’ll get another chance to be in here.”

Across the table, Matteo studied the smug expression on his wife’s face, feeling like she held all the cards.

“That’s it,” he muttered under his breath.

Without warning, he opened his mouth wide and pressed his right hand’s index and middle fingers against the back of his teeth. Genevieve’s brows furrowed in confusion as he carefully unhooked a thin wire from his molar and held it up before her.

“What on earth is that?” she asked, curiosity piqued.

He raised his eyebrows twice, a silent challenge. “Mattress spring. Frankie’s idea. You’ve got two minutes—maybe less,” he warned, a hint of urgency in his voice.