Chapter 121: Jealous Little Brat

Avery’s eyes blinked open, then squeezed shut again as harsh morning light stabbed straight through her skull. She groaned, low and throaty, and tried again, slower this time. Blinking. Adjusting. The ceiling came into focus.

Wood beams. Exposed, rough-hewn, stained dark from years of smoke and time.

Not the smooth, cream plaster of the villa’s guest bedroom.

Her stomach dropped.

She sat up fast too fast and winced, the sheet pooled around her waist. Naked. Completely naked. The wooden floorboards beneath the bed were worn smooth, scattered with a single throw rug that looked handmade. A small window let in slanted sunlight. A worn dresser. A guitar leaning against the wall. A familiar scent, pine, coffee, and….matteo.

Matteo’s cabin.

Her breath caught.

“No. No no no.”

She scrambled off the bed, legs tangling in the sheet, heart slamming against her ribs so hard it hurt. The room spun for a second. Naked. Sore in places she hadn’t been sore in… God, how long? Her thighs ached. Her pussy throbbed with that deep, used feeling. Her neck had faint red marks, bites? Suck marks?

The bedroom door opened.

Matteo stepped in carrying a tray, coffee mug, plate of scrambled eggs, toast, a glass of orange juice. He froze the second he saw her standing there, bare as the day she was born, wild-eyed and panting.

His gaze flicked down, instinct then snapped away so fast it was almost comical. Cheeks flushed dark.

“Jesus, Avery…”

“Tell me we didn’t do it,” she demanded, voice cracking. She snatched the sheet off the floor and clutched it to her chest, covering her body. “Tell me right now we didn’t fucking do it.”

Matteo set the tray down on the dresser with careful slowness, still not looking at her.

“We did,” he said quietly.

Her knees buckled. She grabbed the bedpost to stay upright.

“Noooo…”

And then it all snapped into place.

Flashback.

She’d walked away from Leitana and her weird little squad of ghost-hunters in the villa’s courtyard. Leitana’s soft voice still echoed in her ears and Avery had wanted to scream. Ghost? Sponsors? Justice for some dead model? It was all bullshit. All of it. She just wanted to get away. Get to Matteo’s cabin. Get drunk. Get numb.

She’d walked the path through the trees, gravel crunching under her sneakers, the late-afternoon sun turning everything gold. A chill crawled up her spine halfway there—hair on the back of her neck standing straight. She’d spun around.

Nothing.

Just trees. Wind. Birds.

She’d shaken it off and kept walking.

Knocked on Matteo’s door.

He’d opened it shirtless, sweatpants low on his hips, hair damp like he’d just showered. He’d smiled that slow, lazy smile that always made her stomach flip, even when she hated admitting it.

“Hey, um.”

She’d pushed past him without a word, ranting before the door even closed.

“My mother slapped me. Slapped me! For telling the truth! She’s still defending him, Charles. After everything. After Leroy. After what he did to Mathew. She’s pathetic. She’s….”

“Avery.”

Matteo’s voice had cut through, calm but firm.

She’d whirled on him. “What? Are you even listening to me?”

Then she’d seen her.

A young woman on the couch, pretty, dark hair, wearing one of Matteo’s old band tees, legs tucked under her. Wine glass in hand. She looked up, startled.

Avery’s stomach twisted, hot, ugly, immediate.

“So you’re saying I should leave?” she’d snapped, voice ice. “Because of some skank?”

The girl stood up fast. “Who are you calling a skank?”

Avery stepped closer, chin high. “Did I stutter?”

Matteo moved between them, hands up. “Okay, okay. She didn’t mean that.”

“Hell yeah I did,” Avery hissed.

The girl laughed, short, disbelieving. “Matteo, you brought me here just for your whore to insult me?”

Avery’s blood roared. “Whore?”

Matteo’s voice dropped. “Enough.”

The girl grabbed her bag. “I’m out. Call me when you figure out your mess.”

She brushed past Avery shoulder-checking her on purpose and left.

The door slammed.

Silence.

Matteo turned to Avery, jaw tight.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Avery laughed, a sharp bitter sound. “Me? You’re the one fucking around while I’m dealing with my family falling apart!”

He stepped closer. Too close. She could smell his soap. Feel the heat off his skin.

“Are you jealous?” he asked, voice low.

She scoffed. “Why would I be jealous? I just know that girl doesn’t deserve you.”

He loomed over her now, tall, broad, eyes dark.

“And you do?”

Her breath hitched.

They stared at each other, furious, electric.

Then Matteo kissed her.

Hard.

She shoved him back, her chest heaving.

They stared again, wild-eyed, panting.

Then she attacked him.

Lips crashing. Teeth clashing. Hands tearing at clothes. He lifted her like she weighed nothing, slammed her back against the wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist. His mouth on her throat. Her nails raking down his back.

“Fuck, Avery…”

“Shut up.”

He carried her to the bedroom—rough, urgent. Dropped her on the bed. Stripped her in seconds. She yanked his sweats down. No words. Just need.

He thrust into her, hard, deep, no preamble. She cried out, pain and pleasure twisting together. He fucked her like he was angry. Like he hated her. Like he loved her.

“You drive me fucking insane,” he growled against her ear, hips snapping. “You think you can just walk in here and ruin everything?”

She arched, nails digging into his shoulders. “You think you can fuck someone else and I won’t care?”

He slammed deeper. “You jealous little brat.”

“Yes, fuck, yes!”

He flipped her onto her stomach. Pulled her hips up. Took her from behind, hard, brutal. Hand in her hair. Other hand between her legs, rubbing circles against her clit until she screamed.

“Come for me,” he snarled. “Come on my cock like the needy slut you are.”

She shattered, sobbing, shaking, clenching around him.

He followed, growling her name, spilling deep inside her.

They collapsed, sweaty, panting, tangled.

And then they did it again and again and again till she blacked out.

Now she stood naked in his bedroom, clutching the sheet to her chest, staring at Matteo with wide, horrified eyes.

He still wouldn’t look at her, face turned away, cheeks flushed, hands clenched at his sides.

“Tell me we didn’t…” she whispered again, voice cracking.

Matteo exhaled, slow, ragged.

“We did,” he said quietly. “And you wanted it. You begged for it.”

Her knees gave out. She sank onto the edge of the bed, sheet pooling around her.

He stepped towards her.

“Get out,” she whispered.

Matteo’s head snapped toward her. “Avery…”

“Get. Out.”

He stared at her, long, searching then nodded once.

He turned and walked out.

Closed the door softly behind him.

Avery sat there, naked, trembling, tears burning her eyes.

She had slept with Matteo.

She had screamed his name.

She had come apart under him.

She had betrayed Leroy….and that thought alone crushed her.