Trapped by Seven Mafia Wolves novel Chapter 64

**Stars Refuse To Blink by Asa River Knox**
**Guessing Games**

**Aurora’s POV**

Matteo’s gaze is fixed on me, unwavering and piercing, as if he is trying to see right through the walls I’ve built.

A rush of regret floods my senses. Why did I let those words slip from my lips?

The silence stretches between us, heavy and uncomfortable, like an unwanted guest who has overstayed their welcome. Outside, the rain drums against the windows, a somber symphony that echoes the turmoil brewing within the confines of this room. I find my eyes drawn to the floor, the muted colors of the carpet absorbing my swirling thoughts. Just as I feel myself sinking deeper into the quiet, Matteo’s voice breaks through, low and inquisitive.

“How do you know all that?”

I lift my head slowly, meeting his intense gaze. He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, radiating a blend of curiosity and concern that feels almost palpable. It’s as if he’s on a mission to peel back the layers of my carefully constructed facade.

“There’s no way to say the stuff you said earlier,” he continues, his voice steady but almost a whisper, “not unless you’ve felt it. Lived it.”

I remain silent, my heart racing like a wild drum in my chest, each beat resonating with the weight of his probing words. He leans back slightly, the tension in his jaw becoming evident, as if he’s grappling with his own thoughts. “You talk like you’ve seen some ugly parts of the world.”

I glance down at my lap, nervously toying with the hem of my sleeve, the fabric providing a momentary distraction from the rawness of our conversation.

“Like I said. Lucky guess,” I manage to mumble, my voice barely rising above a whisper. He lets out a sound that hovers between a laugh and a scoff, a fleeting moment of levity that feels almost out of place in the heaviness of our exchange.

Then, he exhales deeply, as if trying to release a burden that has weighed him down for far too long. I steal a glance at him from beneath my lashes as he runs a hand through his tousled hair, a gesture filled with frustration and vulnerability that tugs at something deep within me.

“I know I haven’t… exactly been… nice to you,” he finally admits, his tone softer now, more contemplative. My head lifts slightly, curiosity piqued as I blink at him, trying to decipher the emotions flickering across his face. Matteo doesn’t meet my gaze right away; instead, his eyes are fixed on the wall opposite us, lost in a reverie of his own. “But I watched everyone else flip over you. Jace. Leon. Even Raphael and Andrei—like you belonged here the whole time. And I didn’t get it.”

His voice drops lower, raw and unguarded, revealing a side of him that feels both foreign and familiar. “I didn’t want to get it. I just… assumed you’d be temporary. Another mess. And I was tired of messes.”

I swallow hard, the weight of his admission settling heavily in the air between us. Finally, he turns to face me, his expression a mix of regret and honesty. Matteo lets out another sigh, this one softer, almost resigned. “Everyone probably thinks I’m a cold bastard when it comes to you. And they’re not wrong. But I guess I’m just tired of that image.”

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