Broken Songbird (Vicious Games #2)

40. Chapter 40

M atteo?

No. He’s dead.

But this man looks how I remember him—sharp jaw, sharper cheekbones, tall frame. No, this person is leaner than how I remember Matteo; his black hair is a touch longer and he has facial hair.

Those eyes, though… Sparkling dark blue like the ocean.

It really is Matteo.

I involuntarily shift backwards, my back brushing Creed’s chest as my eyes follow Matteo dragging Adrian across the dais like he’s a sack of meat with a huge grin on his face.

Matteo is dressed in a suit and tie like he attended the wedding. Actually, he’s dressed like he was the best man; the dark plum of his suit and tie matches my dress.

“Teo?” Del says, making my heart pound harder.

This is real. For a second, I thought I was hallucinating.

He tosses Adrian to the ground in front of the newlyweds, then steps around him and gathers Del up in a bear hug.

“Welcome to the family, Del,” he says.

Hearing his voice dumps adrenaline directly into my bloodstream, making my stomach knot.

He’s fucking alive .

My hands shake, my body hot. So many emotions flash through me—I want to burst into tears of happiness seeing Matteo alive and well. I’m confused about what’s happening. I’m nervous about how he’s going to react to Creed.

But the main emotion, tainting all the others—anger.

My attention flicks to Enzo, who has a softer expression on his face as he watches Del and Matteo embrace.

“He fucking lied,” I barely whisper.

“Who?” Creed asks, just as low. I feel his hand brush my hip briefly, then drop away.

“Enzo,” I whisper. “He fucking lied to us.”

“I’m sure he had a good reason,” Creed says.

Creed’s words fuel my anger further. How can he be rational right now? Enzo has kept the fact that his best friend has been alive this whole time.

Del pulls back, blinking away unshed tears, still with Matteo in her arms as she looks from him to Enzo. I can see the questions and confusion flash across her face.

“ Matteo isn’t the gift,” Enzo says sarcastically.

Matteo steps to her side and throws his hands out toward Adrian crumpled up on the floor, his blood now staining the dais stone. “Ta-da!”

“Best gift ever,” Del sighs, leaning into Enzo’s chest.

Matteo chuckles and walks over to Marius, gives him a quick, back-patting hug, and then jogs down the dais toward me and Creed.

He throws his arms out as he nears. “Miss me?”

“Uh, yeah,” Creed says, stepping around me and into Matteo’s path, accepting his embrace, then steps back. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

Matteo scoffs. “As if a bullet to the chest would stop me. What a boring way to die.”

Creed makes an agreeable sound and nods, but I can see the barrage of questions in the tightness of his features.

Matteo turns his attention to me, his eyes sparkling brightly.

“Songbird,” he purrs, moving toward me.

I can’t formulate words which he doesn’t seem to care about or notice as he gathers me into his arms and pulls me flush against him. Then he kisses me.

My body locks up. Wrong. The feel, the smell. It’s all wrong.

Matteo pulls back with a big grin, his eyes searching my face as he tucks stray hair behind my ear. “I missed you.”

“You’re here,” I manage to say, my voice hoarse. I clear my throat and step out of his arms. “Where have you been?”

“Here and there,” he says nonchalantly, like he’s been on a nine-month holiday.

Anger sparks again, burning away more of the shock. We’ve all been lied to for the better part of a year, and not one person here gives a shit?

Before I can demand some answers, Matteo grabs my hand and tugs me toward the dais. “Come on.”

I let him pull me forward, catching Creed’s eye as we pass him. His expression is perfectly blank regarding the both of us, and that panic floods through me. I hope he doesn’t think…

Matteo stops us at the foot of the dais in front of Adrian, and stands behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder.

“This is for you too,” he whispers into my ear, making me shiver.

I refuse to look at Adrian and instead look at Del. She’s regarding us with a confused, pinched expression. I can see her grind her teeth as our gazes meet, wanting to say something, but she doesn’t and pats her skirt where her phone is. We’ll talk later.

“I inflicted every injury he gave you,” Matteo continues in my ear, drawing my attention. “Every bruise, break, scratch and cut.”

“Oh,” I whisper, shifting on the spot, still refusing to look at the monster by my feet.

Matteo’s words are both deeply satisfying and utterly terrifying. I’m grateful—I think—but something about all of this unsettles me. Not necessarily the violence inflicted to Adrian, his despicable actions warrant every second of pain, but…

Is it the deliverer of this vengeance?

If it was Creed who had done this for me, would I have the same unsettling feelings?

“He suffered so sweetly,” Matteo croons, satisfaction dripping in his words as his hand stroking around my waist pulls me closer to him.

I need space to breathe, to think.

I need to get out of here.

“This is your opportunity for restitution,” Enzo says, his voice carrying throughout the church. “For all of us.”

Matteo untangles from me and steps to my side, rubbing his hands together with an elated expression, like he’s about to consume his favourite snack.

Del looks down at Adrian with a gratified grin. I follow her gaze, finally looking at the bleeding heap of a man on the floor. I’m surprised to find him looking at me and frowning.

Matteo sinks down to his haunches. “Best you avert your eyes before I pluck them out.”

Adrian doesn’t heed Matteo’s warning, his gaze finding mine. “Why did you do it?”

I blink. “What?”

His eyes shift down, his frown deepening. “Ruin such a perfect product with tacky art.”

“Excuse me?” I spit out, my lungs burning with fury. How dare he.

“And you covered my mark,” he continues. He lets out a disappointed sigh, his soulless eyes travelling up my body with that assessing glint. “I guess I could mark my property elsewhere and remove—”

Swift movement and Creed’s ringed fist slamming into Adrian’s face cuts off his deplorable words. I take a couple of steps back as his blood sprays across the shiny white stone of the floor.

“You fucking cunt ,” Creed growls, delivering another hit to Adrian’s busted face before Raph appears and pulls him back.

Adrian spits blood on the floor, more pouring down his face from fresh cuts courtesy of Creed’s rings as he wheezes out a laugh.

Matteo kicks him hard in the ribs, and though Adrian deserves it, I still feel the phantom pain of that kick.

“Enough,” Enzo says, and Matteo steps back with a huff.

Enzo looks between me and Del expectantly. I frown. What does he want? For us to start this vengeful game with Adrian’s life?

I look back down at the monster. His actions shattered me into smaller pieces, making the journey for me to becoming whole much longer. I despise him for that.

But, as much as I hate him with my whole being, I’m still a healer. I want to welcome new life into the world and nurture it, watch it flourish, not snuff it out.

I look at Del. “I’m so fucking happy you get to do this. Unleash the empress of hell, baby.”

My attention goes to Adrian for one final time in my life, and I stare directly into his repulsive eyes.

“After all the so-called ‘power’ you held.” I sigh, disappointed . “What are your associates going to say when they discover your reign is being ended by a woman?”

His dark eyes harden as that realisation dawns on him.

I grin, satisfaction pounding in my head. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they know you cried, exactly like your merchandise.”

Garbled Spanish comes out of his mouth, which I don’t understand, but I’m assuming it’s something hateful.

“You deserve everything she does to you,” I spit. “I hope you never find rest.”

With those words, I turn on my heels and leave.

Footsteps follow me, but I don’t look at who it is as I rush down the aisle, the confines of the church suddenly stifling.

Air—I need fresh air.

I descend the front stairs and walk to the corner of the street where I finally stop, reach out and lean against the fence, sucking in the cool August air.

The person who followed me has also stopped, but they don’t approach.

When I have myself pulled together, I turn and let out a sigh of relief. Creed.

I cross to his open arm, wrapping myself around him, resting my ear on his chest. He holds me tight against him as we stand like this in silence. Breathing in his familiar scent, feeling his familiar warmth, makes my racing thoughts settle, giving me a sweet reprieve from the cyclone of confusion.

I pull back once I can breathe easier and clear my throat, keeping my gaze fixed on his chest. “We better go. We have a long drive to the reception.”

During wedding preparation, Del and I found out that the Herringtons own a lavish estate in Victoria’s wine country, about an hour from Melbourne, and, given the short timeline, it’s a perfect location for the large reception.

I don’t wait for Creed to answer me as I walk toward the secure parking at the back of the church. Creed follows without a word, opens the passenger door of my sedan, and then slips into the driver’s seat.

I find my silver clutch with my phone inside it in the centre console, pick a music playlist blindly, then sit back, staring out the window as Creed pulls out of the church.

I’m grateful he’s driving because my mind spins again, trying to wrap my head around what the fuck just happened.

Matteo is alive. Where has he been? He looked physically fine, so why did Enzo choose to lie to us?

Anger burns in my chest again. Faking Matteo’s death feels like Enzo’s decision, but even if it was Matteo’s idea, why did they keep it from us?

It was probably a security thing while Matteo recovered. But between Enzo’s army of henchmen, Raph’s mob guys, and Savage Wings, surely we could have protected him?

Enzo’s words from before come back to me. Our enemies will make our lives more volatile than it is already if anyone finds out.

If Enzo said that to us, what the fuck was he saying to Matteo to make him stay in hiding for so long?

My eyes sting and I blink, realising that I’ve been staring out the window so long that buildings have turned into greenery.

A warm hand sliding over my thighs draws my attention. Creed grips the side of my left thigh, resting his arm in my lap as I wrap my fingers around his forearm.

Anxiety replaces my anger. What’s going to happen now that Matteo’s back? With him and with Creed. Matteo kissed me in front of him, and he said nothing.

Does he think I’m going to break up with him now that Matteo’s back?

Do I want to?

I shake that thought immediately. Absolutely not. I love Creed more than words can describe. I can’t do life without him.

How do I explain that to Matteo? It’s beyond fucking amazing that he’s still here, but will he expect us to pick up where we left off? And why didn’t Enzo tell him about me and Creed?

I let out a short breath. This is a fucking mess.

I’m jolted out of my thoughts as the car veers off the road and Creed’s touch disappears from my lap. I look through the windows and frown. We’ve turned onto a random dirt road lined with dense trees. Is this someone’s driveway?

“This isn’t where we should be,” I comment as Creed puts the car in park.

Then he gets out .

What the fuck?

Dressed in his signature designer black suit and black shirt, no tie and top buttons undone, displaying his tattoos, with his hair neatly tied back in a small, looped bun at the crown of his head, he looks every bit the dangerous criminal as he paces in front of the car.

A darkness I rarely see radiates off him. He seems agitated.

I get out of the car, lifting and gathering the hem of my dress so it doesn’t get dusty from the dirt road, and approach Creed carefully.

“Creed?” I say gently. “Are you okay?”

He laughs, the sound eerily empty. “No, I’m not.”

He pulls off his jacket and tosses it onto the hood of my car, not stopping his pacing.

“Are you hurt?” I ask, now looking him over for injuries.

He shakes his head, pulls the cufflinks from his sleeves and pockets them while still moving, and starts rolling the sleeves.

“Is there something I can do?” I try again. I’m not sure what’s happening right now.

He suddenly twists toward me, honey-brown eyes burning like wildfire. He crosses to me, and I instinctually move back until my thighs hit the front of my car.

He moves until his body is flush with mine, then he leans forward, forcing me to sit on his jacket on the hood. His sweet-smoke and leather scent wraps around me as he braces his hands on the hood on either side of my hips, his wild eyes never leaving mine.

“There is something you can do,” he says low, our lips just brushing when he speaks.

“Anything,” I whisper.

“Tell me you love me.”

My shoulders relax a fraction. This is about Matteo.

“I love you with every part of me,” I say, pushing that statement out with that exact feeling. I reach up and cup his face. “You lean, I lean.”

Those familiar words, our words, visibly release tension in Creed as he closes his eyes and lets out a sigh, pressing our foreheads together.

“I want to…” he starts after a moment. “I want to be telling you I’ll step back if you want to pursue things with Matteo. But… I won’t. I can’t .” He opens his eyes and leans back to look at me, my hand dropping away from his face. “I’m not letting you go. For anyone. Even him. When he kissed you…” he trails off, swallowing hard, his eyes darkening. “I will kill him to keep you, Scarlett.”

I stop breathing.

“Even if you hated me for it, I would still do it. Even if it caused irreparable damage to everyone’s lives or this city, I would do it for you .”

I should get out of here, avoid this kind of intensity and violence in my life, but this level of devotion calls to those secret dark places in my soul.

If Matteo said this to me, I’d be running.

Running to Creed.

Creed’s darkness, I realise, doesn’t frighten me. It’s a quiet, safe space to hide from the world, not like the darkness I’m afraid of, which is restricting and unnerving—like Matteo’s never-ending intensity, or the cold darkness of a wardrobe.

Matteo wanted to carve a space for his darkness in my sphere, which I now realise would have been a heavy burden for me that I would have tried to hold on to, but it would have been an irreparable disaster.

But Creed? He’s given me space in his sphere to fit my broken pieces. Somewhere I can explore all those broken facets of myself.

I can stretch out my wings without fear of judgement for the broken feathers.

He’s also given me the opportunity to fill empty spaces in me with his pieces but has always let me do it at my own pace.

We’ve created a beautiful mosaic together, a home for each of our souls that neither have ever had before.

“You say you won’t let me go,” I start, voice low. Creed’s eyes search my face, his attention solely on me. “Show me.”

Lips crash into mine, and static buzzes in my ears. My body relaxes. This is right. Perfect.

Destined.

I wrap my arms around Creed’s neck, pulling him closer, needing to feel him everywhere.

Creed’s arm bands around me as his free hand grips under my bare knee, hooking my leg around his waist. His mouth moves from mine and travels down my neck as his hand slides up my thigh to cup my ass under the dress through the split.

My hands skim down Creed’s body, revelling in his perfectly hard form, then I unfasten his belt with haste and pull out his shirt.

When Creed tugs on the waistband of my seamless panties, I stop undressing him and lean back on my hands and lift my ass so he can pull the scrap of fabric off me and pocket them.

He pushes the fabric of my dress over my hips, those calloused hands I love gliding reverently over my skin, sending goosebumps erupting across my body.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he says, admiring me spread out over the bonnet of my car on his jacket.

“Show me I’m yours, Creed,” I pant, my need for him running rampant through my veins.

He leans forward, the weight of his body on mine keeping me in place as he hooks one leg over a shoulder and the other over his elbow, before pulling out his cock from his unfastened pants.

He slides it over my core, coating himself in my arousal, then slaps me over my clit with the hefty length, making me pulse.

“Tell me again,” he grits out behind clenched teeth.

“Show me.”

He enters me in one hard thrust and I choke on a moan, eyes rolling closed as I sink back onto the hood.

“ Eyes, princess,” Creed barks, accentuating his demand with another quick, hard thrust.

I pry my eyes open and meet my bright, honey-brown destiny as Creed grips my hips and begins to fuck me hard and fast.

“Won’t let you go,” Creed huffs, changing angles but never changing rhythm.

Fuck , this new angle is intense.

“Yours,” I pant, prisoner to the pleasure building in my body Creed commands. “Always yours.”

He pauses his movements as his hand goes from my hip to between us, his thumb pressing into my clit as the rest of the flat of his hand applies pressure over my pubic mound.

He then thrusts again and my whole body trembles.

“Fuck,” I groan, the feeling of fullness almost overwhelming. “Creed.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos. “But you can take it. For me.”

With every stroke, shocks of pleasure radiate through my body as Creed’s control begins to unravel. His movements become more frenzied, the pressure of his hand a little harder and his thumb works faster.

I can barely breathe at the onslaught of pleasure ravaging my body. “I’m…going to…”

“With me,” Creed barks. “Come with me. Now. ”

On his command, my body explodes, and I rear back, shouting my pleasure into the trees. Sparks play across my vision and my body convulses as Creed slams into me to the hilt and comes with me.

It takes what feels like a while to come down from the euphoria and for my vision to clear. Creed rests his forehead on my chest, his breath still coming out a little fast, but he’s got enough in him to still hold me in place.

“We probably shouldn’t have fucked on your jacket,” I comment lightly.

Creed chuckles deeply and lifts his head. “This cleanup is going to need a whole plan to avoid spillage.”

I bark a laugh then gasp, feeling wetness leak out around Creed still buried in me. I angle my hips up off the car and grab both his arms. “Oh god, you’re right.”

Creed sighs softly, regarding me with a cheeky, dimpled grin. “Never a dry moment with you, love.”

“Don’t you dare make me laugh right now,” I say, battling said laughter trying to burst from my chest. I take a calming breath and then focus. “Okay, how do we do this?”