Matteo

Chapter 17 Stella

STELLA

I cannot believe he just left me here all by myself in his goddamn shower.

Is he out of his mind?

Frowning, I wash off the remaining soap, then turn off the shower and wrap myself in a towel.

I thought he wanted this. He was thrusting his massive dick into his palm, and he was practically foaming at the mouth from the mere sight of my body. Not to mention the fact that I was playing with myself right in front of him.

I came, for God’s sake. And he just walks off? Like it means nothing?

“Hello? Matteo?” I call out, but of course he won’t reply.

I just had a goddamn orgasm, and he stormed off with a literal raging boner. I’m sure he was just as close to coming as I was. I saw his hard-on bouncing up and down from the sheer pleasure. I know for a fact he was enjoying it.

Why would he just walk away from that? It doesn’t make any sense.

I waltz into his bedroom, ready to give him an earful. “What the fuck was that?”

But the second he walks out of his closet in merely a pair of sweatpants, dick bouncing freely between his legs behind the fabric, I lose all sense of reality.

Good God, that thing is huge and veiny.

“Come again?” he muses.

His words immediately remind me of just how easily that orgasm washed over me the second he said good girl.

Damn him. He knows.

I frown and plant my hands against my waist. “You can’t just walk out on me.”

He smiles gleefully. “And who’s stopping me? You?” He snorts. “I’d love to see you try, Tesoro.”

He turns to the mirror to gloat at himself while combing through his hair.

I grab the towel he left on the floor and chuck it right at him. “Ugh, you drive me crazy!”

He dodges the towel with a devilish smile. “Likewise.”

Asshole.

“So what, you’re just gonna leave me in the shower?”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“Why?”

He turns around and grabs some cologne off a shelf to spritz on his neck. “Because I was done.”

“No, you’re not.” I point at his obviously visible bulge. “Look.”

“You enjoy looking at my cock, don’t you?” he quips.

And now the blush truly begins to stain my cheeks red. “I do not.”

“Mm-hmm. Keep telling yourself that, and you might start to believe it.”

He winks. He actually fucking winks. And it would definitely make me swoon if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m ticked off.

I fold my arms. “What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing. Though I suppose I can ask you the same thing, considering you were the one who followed me into the shower in the first place.”

“I am just trying to—”

“What, Stella? You’re trying to what? Seduce me? Toy with my mind? My heart?”

I swallow away the lump in my throat.

Fuck. He caught me red-handed.

“I’m not—”

“Don’t try to deny it. I’m not foolish,” he interjects, placing the spray back down before walking closer to me. “And I thought you knew better than to play around with a mobster.”

“Fine,” I say, folding my arms. “But don’t pretend you’re not just as bad as I am.”

He snorts, then walks to his closet and picks out some clothes: a fitted black tee and some comfy shoes.

Not at all as I imagined him walking around as a bossy Mafia lord.

If I didn’t know any better and saw him walking on the street right now, I’d imagine he’d just be an employee at some fancy law firm getting some groceries or walking his dog.

He blends in nicely, but he won’t fool me.

He clears his throat. “Are we done here?”

I frown. “No.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” he replies, and he walks out the door.

I rush after him. “So you’re just gonna leave me in your room?”

“Yes.”

I eye his pants. “And you’re just gonna walk out with a full-on boner?”

He makes a tsk sound. “I’d rather walk around with a boner the rest of my life than be used as a pawn in your game.”

I grit my teeth.

How dare he?

“You’re one to talk. From the moment we met, all you’ve done is use me to get revenge on Lucio. I stood at that altar with him against my will, and instead of saving me, you took me for yourself and made me your wife. You didn’t even ask what I wanted.”

He keeps walking, ignoring me, but I know he can hear me.

“You used me to get to him because all you wanted was to avenge your mother, and I get that, okay?”

He races down the steps, and so do I.

“But your mother would disapprove of this, and you know it.”

He abruptly stops at the bottom of the stairs and looks me dead in the eyes. “Do not speak about my mother.”

I clutch the banister of the staircase, meeting his gaze head-on. I’m not afraid. Not anymore. “Tell me I’m wrong, then.”

He huffs and puffs, nostrils flaring, but he refuses to answer me. “That has nothing to do with any of this, and it’s not the point of this conversation.”

“Yes, it does, and you know it,” I say. “That’s entirely the point. You’re trying to avenge her death, but she’d never agree to you doing this to someone else. She’d never tell you it’s okay to lock your wife up in your house just so you can use her.”

His jaw tenses, and he tries to walk off again, but I won’t let him.

I march right after him, grab his shoulder, and force him to turn around.

“You don’t want to be used as a pawn, yet you use me as yours,” I accuse him.

“You never stop to ask me how this affected me. Do you even know how distraught I was when I found out I was going to have to marry Lucio? And then on my fucking wedding day, you intervene, only to force me to marry you instead, in front of my own damn mother?” His eyes soften, but I’m not done yet.

“I haven’t even seen her since that day.

I don’t even know if she’s okay.” I clutch my own arms to keep the panic at bay as tears well up in my eyes.

“I don’t even know if she’s still alive. ”

He closes his eyes and lets out an exasperated breath. His shoulders slump as he shakes his head. “I ...”

He doesn’t continue, and I don’t think I’ve ever met a Mafia lord who didn’t know what to say. Then again, I’ve never really met another Mafia lord. Well, except for Lucio, of course.

“I’m done,” I say. “Do you hear me? I’m done pretending any of this is okay. You’re destroying me.”

I grab the ring that’s hanging from my neck, tear it off by the necklace, and chuck it right at his chest. “Keep your stupid ring. It means nothing to me.”

I storm back toward the stairs, while he leans over to grab the ring from the floor with such care that it nearly makes me turn around. But I cannot keep trying to convince him to see me as a human being with wants and needs of my own.

I storm up the stairs while he stays behind, wistfully staring at me from the ground floor. I slam my door shut and fall onto my bed, crying my eyes out.

Not just from missing my mother or for being used like a chess piece.

But because I’ll be stuck in a loveless marriage … for the rest of my life.

Matteo

I stare at the ring she just flung at my chest and feel the tears forming in my eyes, but I push them away. She’s right. My mother never would’ve wanted this, not for me nor for the woman I’d make my wife.

What the fuck has become of me?

I run my fingers through my hair and nearly crush the ring in my hand, but it will never fail to remind me of the weight it carries, of the meaning behind the words I spoke to her on that day at the altar.

I do.

I chose her.

I said yes, and now I’m betraying the very essence of what it means to be husband and wife. I’m no better than Lucio.

Sarah approaches me and clears her throat. “Sorry to disturb you, Mr. De Silva.”

I swiftly tuck her ring into my pocket and turn around. “What is it?”

“There’s a visitor for you. I’ve asked them to wait in your living room until you are ready.”

Just what I needed. More complications to an already difficult day. “Thanks.”

Frowning, I make my way to the living room, wondering who came to visit me unannounced, but when I see my own damn brother’s face, my frown lights up.

“Glad to see you’re still in one piece,” he says, chuckling as he walks toward me to give me a big hug.

“Angelo, what are you doing here?”

“Not even a hello?” He slaps my shoulder. “Always the serious one.”

He waltzes off and pilfers my bar until he finds an empty glass and a bottle of liquor. “The Russian stuff? That’s unlike you.”

“It’s just vodka,” I say, sighing.

He pours himself a drink and takes a sip. “Whatever you say, Ruski.”

Ruski?

My face contorts.

I’m a goddamn De Silva Italian through and through, and of course he knows exactly how to taunt me.

“Don’t play me, the Limoncello is right there next to that bottle. What do you want, Angelo?”

“Can’t I visit my brother?” He shrugs, then takes another sip.

“Not without an ulterior motive, you don’t,” I retort.

He raises his glass. “Touché.”

“How’s Dad doing?” I ask.

“Fine.” He takes another sip of his vodka. “If you call hiding in the bedroom fine.”

“He needs to go outside,” I tell him.

He glances at me. “So do you.”

I raise a brow at him. “I’m not the one hiding in my bedroom while Mom’s killer is still at large.”

“No, you’re just channeling your grief into raging violence.” He smiles. “I know you.”

I fold my arms. “So that’s what you came to do here? To scold me?”

“I came because Dad asked me to come check on you.”

I raise a brow. “And he couldn’t do that himself?”

“You know what he’s like.”

Of course. If there’s anything my dad can do to avoid confrontation, he’ll take the chance, no matter the cost to his own family.

“Dad had to hear from his mole in the Costa family that you attacked Lucio at his wedding.” He hands me his glass. “Take a sip.”

I do what he says, but only because I need to feel my insides burn or I’ll shout. “He’s angry.”

“That’s an understatement,” he states. “Take another sip.”

I roll my eyes but do as he says.

“He wants you to cease all fighting.”

I nearly crush the glass in my hand. “No fucking way.”

“It’s going to cause a war between families. You know that, right?”

“Too late,” I say. “I already cut off several of his fingers.”

Angelo nearly chokes on his drink. “Well, that escalated quicker than I thought it would.”

“I’m avenging our mother. And I thought you knew me well enough that you’d understand I will never, ever stop torturing that son of a bitch.”

He takes in a deep breath and sighs. “Another.”

I reluctantly take another sip, but he snatches the glass back from my hands and takes a sip too. “I figured you’d say that.”

I frown at him. “So what now?”

“We don’t listen.”

“We?”

The smirk on his face slowly grows bigger and bigger until it infects me too, and we both laugh out loud.

“You didn’t think I’d let you have all the fun, right?” He winks, grabs another glass, and fills it up with more vodka, then raises his, so we toast together. “Tell me when and where, and I’ll be there. No questions asked.”

“Thanks,” I say.

“What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t help you solve all your problems and pretended I was the solution all along?”

What an arrogant asshole. Reminds me too much of myself.