Matteo pulled my hand away. “You’ll make it worse. It needs stitches. Should I call for a doctor?”
“No,” I said quickly. I didn’t want any more people to find out, and most of all I didn’t want my bastard of a father to find out he’d managed to split my lip. “I’ll do it myself.”
Matteo raised his eyebrows. He took a step back and did a quick scan of the cupboards before he came up with a medical kit. He threaded a needle and handed it to me. I shifted on the washstand to see myself in the mirror, then brought the needle up to my lip. I’d never stitched anyone up, least of all myself. I hated needles. I even had to close my eyes when I got a shot. Matteo was watching me and I didn’t want to look like a wimp to him, so I nudged my lip with the tip of the needle, jumped from pain and pulled back again.
“Fuck. That hurts like hell.” I flushed, then glared at Matteo. “Go on. Laugh.”
Matteo snatched the needle out of my hand. “This isn’t going to work.”
“I know,” I muttered. “Can you do it?”
“It’ll be painful. I don’t have anything against the pain.”
“Have you ever stitched yourself up?”
“A few times.”
“Then I can handle you stitching me up. Just do it.”
He handed me Tylenol. “Pop a few of them. They won’t help with the immediate pain but they’ll be good later.”
“Vodka works too.”
“I guess you found out in your months as a fugitive,” he said with a grin that bordered on scary. He hadn’t asked too many questions yet. Not even about other guys besides Sid. Maybe he didn’t want to know, and I wouldn’t tell him anyway. It was bad enough that one innocent had lost his life because of me. I wouldn’t tell him the names of the other guys I’d kissed so he’d kill them too. Death was too harsh a punishment for a kiss, for anything really, but that wasn’t something a man like Matteo would agree on.
“Among other things,” I said because I never knew when to shut my mouth. And what better moment to choose for provoking someone than before they were going to poke you with a sharp needle.
“I bet,” he said, the scary smile getting a bit scarier. Matteo cupped my chin. “Try to hold still.”
I braced myself as he touched the needle to my lip. Despite my taunting, Matteo was careful when he stitched me up. It still hurt like hell every time the needle pierced my skin and my eyes filled with stupid tears. I fought them for as long as possible but eventually a few trailed down my cheeks. Matteo didn’t comment for which I was glad. For him this was probably nothing. When he set the needle down after what felt like forever but had probably been less than five minutes, I quickly wiped the tears off my cheeks, embarrassed that I’d shown weakness in front of him like that.
“It’ll swell even more. Tomorrow morning you’ll have a fat lip,” Matteo said.
I checked my reflection. My lip had already swollen considerably since I’d last seen it, or maybe that was my imagination. I pulled down my lower lip to check the stitches. You couldn’t see them from the outside. At least I wouldn’t have an ugly scar. “You can’t possibly want to marry me looking like this.” I pointed at my face. “We should postpone the wedding.”
Matteo shook his head with a small laugh. “No chance in hell. You won’t slip out of my hands again, Gianna. We will marry today. Nothing will stop me.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Gianna
After my lip was taken care of, Aria and I were allowed to go to my old room while the men discussed how to proceed with the wedding. Two bodyguards were ordered to keep watch on me. One waited in front of the door, the other below my window, in case I decided to climb out of it. The moment the door of my room closed I leaned against it and let out a shaky sigh.
Aria touched my cheek. “How’s your lip?”
“Okay. Matteo stitched it up for me.”
“I’m so glad he decided to marry you.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Not you too, Aria.”
Aria pulled me toward the bed and made me sit down. “Father would have given you to one of his soldiers as punishment, Gianna. And you can be sure he would have chosen the least appealing option. Someone really nasty. He’s really mad at you. Matteo isn’t a bad choice. He must care for you if he went to such great length to find you.”
“He’s a proud man. Pride made him pursue me, nothing else.”
“Maybe,” she said uncertainly. She picked up a brush from the nightstand. Everything was still as I’d left it six months ago. I was surprised Father hadn’t burnt all of my things. I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. It was almost seven in the evening. It would have been past midnight in Germany. I couldn’t believe how much had happened since I’d woken in Munich this morning.
“Was it worth it?” Aria asked softly as she combed my hair. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d done it. Her fingers felt good on my scalp and I had to resist the urge to burry my face against her stomach and cry.
I met her compassionate gaze, and for some reason her understanding infuriated me. “Was the chance at freedom worth pissing off Father and being called a whore and slut? Yes, absolutely. But was my silly wish for something more worth the life of an innocent guy? Then fuck no. My entire existence isn’t worth that much. Sid paid the ultimate price for my selfishness. There is nothing I can do to redeem myself.” Tears sprang into my eyes.