Matteo

Chapter 5 Stella

STELLA

I clear my throat as I stare out the window again.

We finally get to a giant mansion after driving through a set of gates and a lavish garden full of expensive flowers and trees.

The property is huge, and I can only imagine the kind of wealth it would take to buy something like this.

A family fortune, reminiscent of that of my dad’s before he became estranged from our family and decided that the only way we were going to access that money would be by marrying someone he’d approve of.

Someone like Lucio. I shiver at the memory of standing next to him at the altar.

The car comes to a stop on the pebble path in front of the mansion, and Matteo is the first to step out of the car.

My door is still locked, but he walks around and opens it for me, then holds out his hand like some kind of fake gentleman.

I narrow my eyes at him, but still grab his hand and let him guide me out of the car.

“Chivalrous … For a man who just crashed my wedding and stole me away as his bride.”

He smirks. “Not as my bride. As my wife. And I’d do it again, if it meant seeing that fucker’s face seethe like a bursting volcano while I take his precious prize away from him.”

I roll my eyes and sigh away the rage before I walk into the mansion by myself, where his people are already waiting for us—staff members, maids, assistants, the whole shebang.

Good God, this guy is even richer than Lucio.

“Good day, ma’am,” one of the girls at the front of the door says. “I’m Leticia, nice to meet you.”

“And my name is Sarah,” another girl says as she takes my cloak.

“Let me show you around the house, ma’am,” Leticia offers.

She grabs my hand and shows me the kitchen, the dining room, the study, the living room, a guest room, and a game room, all on the ground floor.

Each floor is lined with marble, expensive statues are everywhere, and the paintings hanging from the walls must be at least a million each. This man sure appreciates his art.

When we get back to the hallway, Matteo has already walked inside, and he straightens his jacket as he looks at me.

“I’ll take over from here,” he tells Leticia.

She nods and smiles. “Yes, sir, of course.”

He holds out his arm, and I stare at him for a second, wondering what he wants from me, if he really expects me to pretend that I’m his newly wed, happy wife.

How long do I have to fake my way through this? Months? Years?

I hesitantly hook my arm through his, letting him guide me upstairs.

“Let me show you to your room,” he says.

“My room?” I frown.

“You didn’t think I’d let you sleep on the floor now, did you?” he jokes. “Of course, you have your own room.”

“No, I just …” A blush breaks out on my cheeks as I interrupt my own train of thought. “I assumed too much.”

A devilish smirk appears on his face. “What? You assumed I would force you to sleep in my bed? That can be arranged, if you prefer.”

I laugh it off. “No, no, this is fine.”

But the moment we enter my bedroom, I’m in awe at all the opulence around me.

A red velvety chair in the corner, an expensive boudoir made entirely of hardwood, silver-flaked windows with long drapes, and a double king-size bed close to the floor, bamboo around it, and behind it a long waterfall cascading from the ceiling to the floor into a small pond.

“Oh my God,” I mutter to myself as I look around.

“You like it?” he asks. “I had it styled myself. I wanted it to represent an escape to nature, a sort of tranquil meditation room.”

I can’t believe this is merely a guest room.

“But I have another room if you don’t like this one,” he says.

“This is perfect,” I murmur.

It’s everything I could ever want, everything I ever dreamed of as a little girl to live in a house like this. But my dreams never ended in a marriage to a certified Mafia don.

I gaze down at the ring around my finger, and my stomach twirls into knots. This ring doesn’t belong to me. I didn’t marry this man by choice. I married him to save myself and to get far away from Lucio. But at what cost?

“How long are we going to keep this up?” I glance at him over my shoulder, feeling the weight of my own words. But God, those gorgeous eyes make it so hard to focus.

He licks his bottom lip. “As long as required.”

“How long?” I press.

I don’t want to be stuck in this limbo forever.

He narrows his eyes at me and steps closer, too close for comfort, and I find it hard to focus on anything other than his prominent buff features in that tightly fitted suit of his. I’m sure he must be totally ripped underneath all that fabric, and he makes me gulp just by getting close.

God, how does he have this effect on me?

I don’t even know this guy. We’ve only been married for less than a day.

“Are you already looking for a divorce, wife?” he asks with a half smile and tilted head.

“I didn’t say that,” I reply. “I meant, how long are we going to keep up this farce?”

He grabs a strand of my hair, surprising me as he tucks it behind my ear and gently caresses my cheek, and I nearly melt into a puddle on this hardwood floor.

“If it’s up to me? Forever.”

Forever? No, that’s not a possibility I even want to entertain right now, but if I go against it, I might anger this Mafia lord, and that’s not in my best interest, so I play along.

“What are you going to do about Lucio? He’s your enemy, right?” I ask.

“He is, yes,” he replies.

Short response. He’s definitely hiding his true motives. Maybe he doesn’t trust me as much as I don’t trust him. I don’t want to sound rude, but I wonder if he knows how far Lucio is willing to go for me.

“Lucio’s not going to let this rest,” I say.

“I’m well aware,” he replies.

“What if he comes for me?”

He doesn’t seem even remotely worried. “Then I’ll be ready.”

“I’m not joking,” I say.

“I wasn’t either. I know Lucio very well, I’m afraid. But he also knows not to anger me.”

“But he knows where I am now. He knows where you live, right?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But he’ll come for me, I’m sure of it. You two are enemies. I’m not safe here.”

“You are as safe as you can be here, Tesoro, with my guards and me watching over you. There’s not a place on this earth you are safer than you are here.”

His words are full of conviction, as if he wants to reassure me of his devotion to defending me. But I don’t want to be stuck here forever without the people I love.

“When can I have my phone?”

“Soon,” he replies.

Always those cryptic answers that mean nothing.

“What if I want to leave the house and go somewhere?” I ask.

He slowly shakes his head. “That’s not possible, I’m afraid.”

My brows flinch. “What do you mean?”

“Right now, it’s not safe to do so. I’m sorry.”

“Okay. What about next week?”

His nostrils flare. “I can’t make any promises.”

“Next month?” I press.

He remains silent and stoic, and his intentions slowly filter into my brain like snowflakes on a cold day, making me shiver.

I fold my arms. “Do you intend to keep me here forever? Locked away in this gilded prison? Because that’s it, right? I’m your prisoner now.”

He sighs out loud. “I’m sorry, Tesoro. It is for the best.”

When he turns around and walks off, I say, “You can’t do this.”

“Yes, I can, and I already have,” he replies.

When he waltzes out the door, I attempt to follow, but his guards block my way.

“Let me through,” I demand, but they don’t listen to me. They only obey him.

“Keep her safe in this room. And lock the door. I don’t want any snooping around the house just yet.”

“No,” I yell, trying to make my way through them, but the door is slammed shut in my face.

The lock is put in place before I even have a chance to turn the handle, and I pound my fists against the door, screaming out loud.

“Let me out of here, goddammit. You can’t keep me in here. I’m not some kind of animal you can just lock away in a cage.”

But no one is listening, and after a while, I sink down to the floor as the tears begin to flow freely. Not only because of my freedom being stolen away from me, but also because I realize I might never see my mother again. And it’s all because of him.

Matteo

I stand in the hallway listening to her rage against the door, wondering if I did the right thing.

My absolute animosity toward Lucio blinded me, and I became consumed by revenge.

I wanted to see him in ruins, and I knew the only way to do that would be by stealing the one thing he desired the most: this girl.

He wanted her even though she didn’t want him, and if I took her away from him, it would make him want to jump off a fucking bridge.

Of course, the fucker is too proud to even consider it.

I just wanted him on the verge of screaming out in agony over losing the one thing he craved.

But after I’d slipped that ring around her finger and kissed her there on the altar, it slowly started to seep in that this woman I’ve made my wife on impulse has been ruined along with him.

I took her and made her mine, and now she’ll hate me forever.

I rub my forehead, sighing to myself.

What have I done? I’ve ruined that girl’s life, and for what? Petty revenge.

I shake my head. It’s too late now, too late to turn around, too late to undo what’s been done. That ring is around her finger. She’s my wife now, and I will not let her shake off that title, no matter what.

I waltz off and head downstairs toward my study so I can think in peace and quiet, alone.

Every so often, I still hear the ruckus upstairs.

She’s probably throwing around the furniture in her room in a blitz of fury, and honestly, I completely understand.

I felt the same when my mother died because Lucio didn’t think twice when he raided one of her establishments and killed her in the process.

But fuck, I didn’t think things would get this complicated.

I grab some liquor and pour myself a much-needed scotch on the rocks. Then I sit down behind my desk for a break. I’m still in my suit, and she’s still wearing that beautiful wedding dress. Husband and wife, separated by impenetrable walls. So close yet it feels like we’re a million miles apart.

I never envisioned my marriage like this. Not in a million years.

What the fuck am I going to do with this girl? I don’t know her. I only know neither of us wanted this marriage, and it’s fucked up, for sure.

A knock on my door distracts me, and I put down my glass, then say, “Come in.”

Franco, my second in charge, steps inside and closes the door behind him. “How did she do?”

“Enough, considering the circumstances,” I reply. “I don’t want to talk about it. Tell me, where’s Lucio?”

“He and what was left of his men ran away like cowardly dogs with their tails between their legs.” He laughs. “It was a sight to behold. I have never seen a man cry and scream like that over losing a toy.”

I pick up my glass and swirl it around. “She’s not a toy,” I reply, homing in on him with a deadly gaze.

He clears his throat. “No, I know that.”

“Did he look like he was in an awful amount of pain?” I ask.

“Definitely,” Franco replies.

I nod a few times, satisfied with the answer.

“What are you going to do with the girl?” he asks.

I stare at the ice cubes in my scotch. “For now, she’s just my wife. That’s it. She’s my wife. End of story.” I let out a breath.

“Do you want to annul the marriage?”

“Che cazzo. No, I don’t do that type of shit. Marriage is sacred in our family, Franco. You know that.”

“Right.”

“But still, I have no clue what to do with her. I think she hates me.”

He shrugs. “Does it matter? She’ll come around.”

The girl in the club was so eager to cast Lucio’s gift aside out of spite just to taunt him, just to say “fuck you, I hate you” … and now I’ve done the same thing to her as he did.

I shake my head and take another sip of my drink. “I don’t think so. She despises being trapped. I know that. It was obvious from the start when she threw those pearls over the balcony of Club Triton.”

He frowns. “Wait, you met her before?”

I nod. “Before the meeting. She was angry as hell. Still is, and rightfully so. I stole her freedom away from her, and I gave her nothing in return, except a gilded prison.”

I take another sip, but the burn doesn’t compare to how painful her hostility will feel deep in my bones. When I first saw her, I was impressed by her brazenness and her sass. That look of malice in her eyes taunted me. Made me want to kiss her and take her with me.

But I never imagined our first kiss would be at the altar of my goddamn enemy, and that she would curse the ground I stand on, probably for the rest of her life.

I didn’t even know her name until I put that ring on her finger. But I took those goddamn vows, and I don’t take them lightly. She is my wife now, and I will make this work.

“Are you going to let her go, then?” Franco asks.

I look him dead in the eyes and say, “No. She stays. Even if she hates me, she’s my wife, until death do us part.” I slam my drink down on the table. “And someday, she will understand too.”