He looked completely composed, like he hadn’t slept in chaos or betrayal or anything at all—perfect suit, perfect posture, not a single crease out of place. His face, however, was carved with something colder than anger.
Disappointment. Contempt.
“Aria,” he said quietly, almost like he was talking to someone foolish. “What exactly have you done now?”
My voice dropped to a whisper. “You know what happened. You were there—”
I didn’t even get to finish.
His hand came fast.
The impact of the slap rang through the room, sharp and humiliating. My head turned with the force of it, my cheek burning instantly.
“Matteo!” one of the officers snapped, standing up, but Matteo only raised a hand slightly, as if apologizing for a minor inconvenience.
“I’m sorry,” he said smoothly, though his tone carried none of it. “It’s just… difficult watching her behave like this after everything she’s done.”
I could taste blood in my mouth, metallic and bitter. “You…” My voice shook. “You actually hit me.”
He didn’t even look at me when he answered the officers.