Chapter 95

Chapter Ninety-Five

Gen pressed herself closer against Matteo’s chest, forcing herself to look up and meet his gaze. The fierce, matte-black anger she’d seen in his eyes earlier had softened, replaced by a lighter, more vulnerable shade. Yet, the redness and puffiness around the whites of his eyes betrayed the toll of his hangover. Stubble roughened his jawline, and his hair was tousled—either from restless sleep or the way he’d been running his hands through it. Right then, as if confirming her suspicion, he raked his fingers through his hair once more.

“What picture?” Gen asked again, her voice steady but curious.

Matteo took a step back, as if regaining control over his emotions. “Nothing. I was imagining things,” he said, trying to brush it off.

“Matteo…” she began, but he cut her off with a heavy sigh and retreated further until he could lean against the couch. Crossing his arms, he gave a small, resigned shrug. “We run background checks whenever someone in the family is about to get married. I found a picture of you.”

Gen narrowed her eyes, sensing there was more he wasn’t saying. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to that story?”

Avoiding her gaze, Matteo shrugged again. “Maybe it was a photo of you and your ex. Maybe it set me off in a blind rage. Maybe I cut the picture and gave the half with him on it to Frankie, telling him to make sure that guy wouldn’t be at the damn wedding.”