Chapter 10
Francesca
It felt like an eternity had passed while I stared into nothing, waiting for reality to kick in, those damn papers burning a hole in my hands.
“I surrender.” The Post-it taunted me yet again with that messy handwriting. I could almost envision Matt with a pen in his left hand, signing my demise with a cruel smirk on his face. Every page bearing his signature, showing me that it was a done deal for him. The way it contrasted with the whispers of love from last night was revolting.
What a fucking fool!
Those two words shattered my whole world. They pulled me into a dark pit drenched in anguish. It was like I was falling at a high speed, the pressure compressing my chest while my heart screamed for space to implode.
Why?
Why is this happening again?
I knew what it took to overcome this kind of heartbreak, but I was certain that this time around, the wreckage was beyond repair.
I wouldn’t be able to do it.
Not again.
Not with Matt.
How much of last night, of the last year, was actually true? Probably none of it. And I was nothing but a fucking puppet while Matt played my strings just as it suited him.
How did I let myself get into this situation again? It’s like I’ve learned nothing from my past experiences. Nothing at all.
For a moment, I allowed myself to cry. I needed this feeling to leave my body, and right now, this was the only way I knew how. It was a sign of weakness and vulnerability that I avoided as much as possible, but right now, I was sure these walls would keep my secret.
I felt empty as if my heart had been ripped out of my chest. Hurt and betrayed. Played into loving someone who didn’t deserve it.
I didn’t just love Matt. I adored him.
He had become my life. The oxygen I desperately needed to breathe. The future I never knew I wanted. All the damn clichés we see in movies. Everything I had so desperately tried to avoid.
Matteo Battaglia was my happily ever after.
Was.
Was.
Was!
I forced that past tense into my damaged brain. He made his dream come true, and I was the disposable ladder he’d used to get there. Just like Gio had warned me all those months ago.
I let all my tears shed onto the pillow until they stopped pouring. Until I had no more to spill. Until something more like myself hit me full force.
Slowly, I swallowed the fire that built its way up my throat as I sat up on the bed. I couldn’t allow myself to fall back into the dark pit I had sunk into with Eric. If I had barely made it out then, there was simply no rope long enough to pull me out this time. Not when Matt was so much more.
So, instead of sadness and dismay, I focused on the part of me that felt rage. I hung onto that feeling as if it was my damn lifeline.
Fueled by it, I got up from the bed and marched into the kitchen with the stack of papers in my hand, placing them on the counter before setting off to find a damn pen.
“Where are you? Where are you?” I murmured as I pulled one drawer open and rushed through its contents before opening the next to do the same. And then the next. And the next. And the next.
I’d rummaged through every damn drawer, and there was no pen.
No. Fucking. Pen.
I grabbed the edges of the counter and closed my eyes tightly, trying to reign in the turmoil inside of me.
It was illogical. Being set off by a damn pen. But before I could even make sense of what I was feeling, the fury had already taken over me.
“Ahhhhhhhh!”
I couldn’t stop the rush of wrath that set in as I screamed at the top of my lungs and broke everything in sight.
Every object. Every item. Every piece of furniture I put my hands on was tossed, bent, or broken. A fragile little mirror of myself.
Fragile because I could not be her again. I could not be the Francesca who almost ceased to exist after Eric’s game came to light.
No.
Fuck no!
I was so much more than the broken little girl he left behind.
I was a woman. A damn Mafia princess that would rather burn the world down than be in that dark place again.
I allowed my rage to run its course, finding no peace after breaking everything in my path. When I finally settled for the briefest of moments, I felt the bite of pain that cut into my skin.
There was blood trickling down my bare legs. Pieces of shattered glass had given me this parting gift because there was no way in fucking hell I was going to stay here for even one more second. With every ounce of strength in me, I focused on the physical pain that was nothing above a sting since the other one was too overbearing.
If there was one thing I learned from Matt, it was that control was the key to this life. To this game of power. And fuck had he played me into being exactly who he needed me to be.
With deep breaths, I slowly calmed down to a stop. Taking in the destruction around me, I tried every trick in my book to go back to feeling nothing for this man.
It was an illusion, though. I knew it. My heart knew it. And worst of all, my brain knew it, too, and didn’t allow me the reprieve.
This wasn’t his fault, though. It was mine. I should have known what criminals are made of.
They are called Men of Honor, but there is no honor. Not really.
Mafiosi men lie and cheat, steal, and deceive, so long as it suits their agenda. Honor is what they title a handshake where both parties are trying to hide how they’ll fuck you over behind a curtain of dupery. That only leaves the suits and fancy shoes. The expensive cars and hundred dollar bills. Those are the only things landing them the tag of gentlemen because the rest was quickly gone with the wind of their self-interest.
I was angry at myself. This was my fault. I had let myself fall into this trap again. I had allowed my heart out of my chest and into his hands. I had allowed him to crush it, burn it, and throw it away. Just like he was doing to me.
He was tossing me aside now that he had achieved his goal. Now that he didn’t need me anymore. I thought that becoming a Don, finally taking that damn seat in the Commission wasn’t the end game. I thought we’d become so much more than just a means to an end.
How fucking foolish.
I got in the shower, letting the first cold, then boiling hot water cover my body, trying to clear and cleanse my mind.
It was obvious to me that I was leaving immediately, but not before unloading what was trapped in my chest. I had to hand him those fucking papers personally.
I was definitely not a coward that left in the middle of the night. I face my issues. And that’s what I had to do before I left.
Face him.
Hate him in person.
Shove my heart across that line between love and hate by seeing him one last time.
I tried my best to look normal. To look unbroken. I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of my pain or any display of my weakness. I shoved some of my stuff into the big suitcases, thinking I’d have someone come for them later before I packed a small backpack to take with me.
I picked up the stack of papers Matt had left on the bed, not bothering to read them. The headline was enough for me. “DIVORCE SETTLEMENT”.
Finally, I found a pen in Matt’s bedside table drawer. I was about to sign every page before I paused. Fuck him if he thinks I’m going to make his life easy. If this was what he wanted, he had to sweat to get it. I had already given up too much for two fucks and a pet name.
I took my leather jacket and the flimsy backpack and shoved the damn papers inside before darting down to the basement and hopping on my bike.
His bike? I don’t really know anymore, but it’s gonna be nobody’s bike real soon.
As the wind blew on my face, the air ignited a flame from hell inside me. My pain being rightfully replaced with wrath and fury, the need to wreak havoc all around me, more than I could handle or try to suppress. This was exactly the state of mind I needed to be in to face Matt. I needed my anger to surpass whatever love I felt for that man.
I got to Dea Tacita in record time, jumping off the bike while it was still running, purposefully letting it ram against the parking lot’s wall. A loud bang filled the silence of the alley as it broke and bent upon impact.
Nobody’s fucking bike.
Marching into the club, I pulled out the divorce settlement before throwing my backpack onto the floor. I stood in the middle of the dance floor, knowing fully well that Matt was watching me from his fucking throne. I placed my hands on my hips, my foot tapping on the floor as I waited for him to grow a pair and face me.
“Seriously? This is how you want to play it? I know you’re there, you fucking coward!” I shouted towards the tinted glass of his office. “Fine!”
I didn’t want to go up there. I didn’t want to be alone with him for some strange reason. Still, I raged up the stairs to his office, inhaling all the anger and courage I could before almost kicking the door open.
My heart hammered in my ears and my chest, stopping as soon as he came into view.
One full, strong beat before it stopped altogether.
How could he look this glorious in my demise?
His fucking beautiful face and powerful presence still made me shiver. My heart tightened again, twisting in pain, compressed by the hurt of deception. I couldn’t breathe or swallow as I stood by the entrance looking at him, staring for a moment, trying to control the tears that threatened to spill.
I couldn’t show him my pain, I needed him to feel my wrath and disgust. Matt didn’t deserve my devotion. He deserved my scorn and indifference.
Max stood from the leather couch, a glass of whatever the fuck they were drinking in his hand. He took one step towards me as he started to leave, but there really wasn’t any need for that, now was there?
“You can stay. I’ll be brief. And then you two backstabbing fuckers can go back to celebrating,” I said, motioning towards their drinks and lit cigars. I bet he bought them in Cuba, already knowing what was coming, while I stupidly fell for his blindsiding game.
Matt just sat there, his eyes dead set on mine, but not a single word left that fucking perfect mouth of his.
“I came here to bring you these,” I said, waving the papers in my hand, pausing and shaking my head, incredulous that he had no damn reaction to me being here. “You have nothing to say to me? Just like you didn’t last night. You talk a big fucking talk about respect and honor, and yet you show me none.” I spat, his masked expression still perfectly set on his face. “Why, Matt? Tell me, why?” I asked, a small moment of weakness I couldn’t control.
That question was found with more silence. Nothing. Just deafening quiet that screamed in my face.
“You know what?” I asked, entering the room, again my chest collapsing upon the invasion of his scent that hit my nose. “Fuck you, Matt. I hate you. I hate you for making me love you only to break me again. I thought you were strong, but I've never met a weaker man than the one in front of me now. You are so weak, you don't even fight for what you want, for me, for us. You just… gave up. Hypocritically gave up after all that righteous speech about fate and destiny and never surrendering or quitting.” I silenced, letting my words linger, before thinking this through a little more. “No! That’s not it. You are strong, and I'm wrong, and this is what you wanted all along. You never loved me, not even for a second. I understand it now. You finally got what you wanted, your seat at the fucking big boy's table. I hope it makes you happy. I hope it brings you everything you ever thought it would. And I hope it haunts you at night the way I know you will haunt me. I really hope you're happy, cause I am miserable, and that… is on you! But I'm guessing your conscience doesn't dwell on such trivialities.”
I swallowed my pride, letting him know that I was hurt, that I was broken. He deserved to live with that on his conscience if he had one.
“That oath about honor and respect? Your mouth doesn’t deserve to be speaking those words. You know nothing about respect and even less about loyalty. I wish you a lifetime of happiness, you fucking prick!”
He didn’t utter a word, he didn’t move, he didn’t react to anything I just said. It had no effect on him whatsoever. But I was sure my next words would.
“By the way, you’re delusional if you think I’d just sign your fucking release without question. My lawyers will get back to you when I’m good and ready.”
I threw the stack of papers onto his desk, the pile sliding and spreading across the surface.
“You’re not leaving until you sign those papers.” Matt’s voice was calm and unwavering as if he had no doubt that I’d double down and do exactly as he said.
“Do you have a bullet with my name carved?” I stared him down, watching as his features morphed into a darker expression. “After everything, did you really think I’d make your life that easy? Shoot me if you must, but I’m not signing anything until I’m ready to.”
“Sign the papers, Francesca.” He warned.
“My lawyers will contact you when the time is fitting.” I turned around, ready to leave this fucking place and never look back.
I couldn’t promise I’d never think about him again because I wasn’t that delusional. I knew I would. I knew I’d still cry over that fucking asshole who stole my heart.
“You will sign those papers right now.” His deep voice stopped me in my tracks, its cold and detached tone sending a chill down my spine, making me turn again to face him. Matt was standing now, his full height as imposing as ever.
His hands were set flat on his wooden desk, the glint of his wedding ring still on his finger almost blinding me. Something in me wasn’t buying this act. Something told me that it wasn’t the “I love yous” that were fake. This was.
But I couldn’t humiliate myself and grovel for the love of a man who clearly wanted to cut the ties that bound us.
“Sign them,” He grunted again, “Or every Don, Capo, and enforcer of the Cosa Nostra will get a photo of Tommy and his full resume, complete with his fucking birth certificate.” Matt paused, maybe relishing in the panic I was sure covered my face. “Yes. I know about him, Francesca. And I am not going down because of you and your family’s stupidity. Now sign the fucking papers.”
How? How did he know about him?
So that’s why he was doing this? To cover his own ass? Matt only loved me when it suited him. Right now I was the stink in his glory.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
I swallowed the bile that rose through my throat, slowly walking towards him as he held out a pen for me to take. I couldn’t stop my head from shaking from side to side. Part disbelief, part disgust.
My skin crawled with humiliation as I took it from him before gathering the papers and scribbling my name across the sheets.
Matt watched me like a hawk, making sure I didn’t miss any dotted lines, and under his attentive glare, I could feel my blood going cold. And just as the last drop of ink was pressed onto the paper, my heart sank to my gut again, leaving my chest hollow as I faced the finality of my fairy tale.
“That’s a good girl.” He said in mockery, those same words that I’d melted to hear so many other times taking on a whole new meaning that felt nothing short of derogatory. Matt took the stack of papers and kept them in his desk’s drawer, handling it with such care that it was almost as if it was his most prized possession. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
With all the strength I had left in me, I smiled, locking my eyes with his, swallowing the pain that threatened to destroy me right here.
“Your grandfather would have been ashamed of you.”
I knew how cutting those words were, and I meant every last one of them. The smirk on Matt’s face was immediately wiped off, his gray eyes hardening into orbs of thunderstorms. But I wasn’t about to stay and catch the lightning.
I turned around for the last time and walked to the door before I took off my wedding ring and tossed it over my shoulder.
The metallic sound of it hitting the floor was as loud as an atomic bomb going off right beside me. The soundtrack of the end of our contract. The end of my happily ever after.
I had spoken my truth, but I wasn’t feeling any lighter. I was drowning on dry land, but I’d wait to gasp in safety when I was alone. Enough of being vulnerable. Enough of showing him I cared when he clearly didn’t.
Max followed me out of the office, his footsteps too loud not to be noticed. I abruptly turned to stop him, my nose still flaring in rage.
“Don’t even think about following me, Max. I will have a restraining order on your ass so fast you won’t even have time to say chop fucking suey. Got it?”
I spun on my heels again, more than impatient to leave this place and go home, but Max had hurt me just as much as my now ex-husband.
“You know what, Max? I expected more from you. I thought that, above all, you were my friend. Apparently all you wanted was for me to put in a good word with the boss’s sister. Guess what? She deserves better. Now, stay like a good little watchdog before I give Alison’s boyfriend enough intel to lock you up for the foreseeable.”
It was an empty threat. I wasn’t one of the boys, but I still lived by the same rules. Even so, it was enough for me to make the rest of the way alone.
I picked up my backpack and left the club, never looking back but fairly aware I was being watched.
My strides were wide and fast. I needed to get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible. I needed to breathe again.
But more than that… I needed to break down again.
And I did.