Bound To My Mafia Stepuncles novel Chapter 113

Matteo’s POV

I heard her laugh.

Soft.

Warm.

Real.

It stopped me cold in the hallway. I hadn’t heard that sound in weeks. It wasn’t a polite smile or a cold chuckle. It was her.

I leaned against the doorway, hidden, just watching. She had her phone pressed to her ear, a small smile still on her lips. She was curled up on the couch like she used to–legs tucked under her, hoodie loose around her.

My Aria.

Only… she wasn’t mine anymore.

When she finally looked up and saw me, her whole face changed. Smile gone. Walls back up. Eyes hard.

“You don’t knock now?” she asked, cold.

I didn’t answer. I stepped inside.

“Who were you talking to?”

She blinked, then scoffed. “Relax. It wasn’t one of your replacements.” She stood up, walked past me, her voice sharp. “I know you’ve moved

on.”

My jaw clenched. I turned, following her. “Is that what you think?”

She didn’t look at me. Just grabbed a book off the table, acting like my presence didn’t matter. Like I didn’t matter.

“You broke my trust, Matteo. All three of you did, and you really thought sending me abunch of flowers would fix that.” she said, flipping the book open but not reading a word. “You made your choice.”

I was in front of her in two steps. Took the book from her hand, tossed it aside.

Her eyes flared. “Don’t.”

I didn’t touch her. Not yet. I just stepped closer, slow, until her back hit the wall. My hand came up beside her head. I leaned in, close enough to smell the vanilla in her hair.

“I don’t want anyone’s laugh but yours.”

She looked up at me, lips trembling. But her yoice stayed strong. “Then you shouldn’t have left.”

She tried to turn away. I caught her wrist. Gently. But firm.

“I never left you, Aria.” My voice was low, rough. “You pushed us away. You pretended we meant nothing.”

“And what, now you just walk in like nothing happened?” she hissed, shaking her head. “You think you can just… touch me and I’ll forget?”

1/3

Chapter 113

I didn’t reply. Instead, I lifted her hand and placed it on my chest. Right over my heartbeat.

“Feel that?” I whispered. “It’s still yours.”

Her eyes nickered. Her fingers twitched against me. But she yanked her hand back, pushing past me.

Later that night, music played from the speaker in the living room. Something slow. Soft.

She walked by, heading to the kitchen. I didn’t think. I just reached out, caught her wrist again.

“Dance with me.”

“No,” she said instantly, not meeting my eyes.

“Just one song.”

“Matteo-

I stepped closer. Let my body brush lightly against hers. “I need to feel you again. Even if it’s the last time.”

She froze.

I pulled her gently into my arms. Her body was stiff at first. But I didn’t rush it. I let her settle. One hand on her lower back, the other taking

hers.

We moved. Slowly. Quietly.

The room felt too small. The space between us felt like fire.

Her eyes stayed down. I leaned in. My lips brushed her temple–not a kiss. Just a graze.

She sucked in a sharp breath. Her hand tightened on mine.

“You still smell like heaven,” I whispered. “You hate me, but your body remembers me.”

She shook her head, but she didn’t pull away.

I let my thumb trace a circle on her lower back. I felt her tremble.

“You used to melt for me right here,” I said softly, pressing just enough to remind her.

She shivered. Her chest rose and fell faster now.

“You want me to stop?” I asked.

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