Chapter 3 - Secrets in the Dark
As the weeks passed, a quiet rhythm settled into the penthouse. The icy wall between Matteo and Cameron began to melt, replaced by an unspoken tension that hummed in the air whenever they were in the same room.
Late one evening, after Leo had fallen fast asleep, Cameron walked down to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. The penthouse was dimly lit, soft city lights casting long shadows across the floor.
As she passed the floor-to-ceiling windows in the main living area, she saw a figure standing in the dark.
It was Matteo. He was dressed in a dark silk shirt, the top two buttons undone, holding a glass of amber whiskey. He was staring out at the Manhattan skyline, looking utterly alone.
Cameron hesitated, turning to leave silently, but the clinking of her glass betrayed her.
"You don't have to run away, Cameron," Matteo said, without turning around.
Cameron paused, stepping into the room. "I didn't want to disturb you, sir."
"Stop calling me sir," he said, turning to face her. The shadows obscured half his face, making him look dangerously handsome. "It sounds ridiculous coming from the woman who argues with me about my son’s bedtime."
Cameron offered a small, shy smile. "Force of habit."
Matteo motioned toward the window. "Come here. Look at this."
Cameron walked over, standing beside him near the glass. Below them, the lights of New York City stretched out like a galaxy of fallen stars.
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
"It's quiet," Matteo corrected softly. "It’s the only time this city stops demanding things from me." He took a sip of his whiskey, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "Clara hated this apartment. She said it felt like living inside a diamond—cold, hard, and sharp."
It was the first time Matteo had ever mentioned his late wife to her. Cameron felt her pulse quicken.
"She passed away two years ago, right?" Cameron asked gently.
Matteo’s jaw tightened. "She died in a car accident three weeks after Leo was born. The media called it a tragedy. They said her brakes failed."
Cameron caught the subtle edge in his voice. "You don't believe it was an accident?"
Matteo turned his head, looking down at Cameron. His gray eyes were intense, swirling with a dark storm of memories. "I know it wasn't. Clara discovered something about her family’s company—Vance Global. Her father and her sister Vanessa were using offshore accounts to launder money through fake medical charities. When Clara threatened to go to the authorities, her car went off a cliff on Route 9."
Cameron gasped, her hand instinctively flying to her mouth. "Oh my God... Matteo..."
"I’ve spent the last two years quietly buying up Vance Global stock," Matteo continued, his voice terrifyingly calm. "I am two percent away from a hostile takeover. I am going to destroy them, Cameron. I am going to take everything they own and throw them into a federal prison."
The sheer darkness of his desire for revenge hung heavy in the air. Yet, looking at him, Cameron didn't feel afraid. She felt a deep, overwhelming sorrow for the man who had been carrying this crushing weight all by himself.
Without thinking, Cameron reached out and gently laid her hand over his on the glass ledge.
"You've been holding this all alone, haven't you?" she whispered softly.
Matteo froze. He looked down at her hand covering his. His breath hitched.
No one touched Matteo Duca. No one offered him comfort. People took from him, feared him, or begged him for favors. But here was this twenty-three-year-old girl, standing in his dark living room, looking at him as if he were just a man in pain.
Slowly, Matteo turned toward her. He raised his free hand, his long fingers lightly brushing a stray lock of hair away from Cameron’s cheek. The touch sent a violent shiver down her spine.
"Cameron..." he breathed, his voice thick and dangerously low.
They were inches apart. She could feel the intense heat radiating from his body, could see the dark hunger flickering in his eyes.
Suddenly, a loud buzzing sound shattered the intimate silence.
Matteo’s private phone on the coffee table was vibrating violently.
The spell snapped. Matteo stepped back, his expression instantly closing off as he grabbed the phone. He looked at the caller ID, and his face turned to stone.
"Speak," Matteo answered coldly into the receiver.
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A frantic voice echoed from the speaker: "Sir! It’s Frank. We have a breach at the hospital in Queens. Someone just tried to pull the funding on Miss Jenkins’ mother’s medical treatment!"
Cameron’s heart dropped into her stomach. "My mother?!"
