Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Anya
Ifeel like I’ve been floating for the last three days. Matteo and I kissed, and it was unbelievable. We connected in such an intimate way, so gentle but so passionate all the same. I’ve been waiting for it to happen again every day since, though we haven’t had a moment alone to recreate it.
Dad hasn’t given me any indication that he knows what Matteo and I did while he wasn’t home, but he hasn’t afforded us any privacy since returning from his meeting, either.
When Matteo has come to visit these past couple of days, someone has always joined our company.
Whether it’s him, Nadya, Aunt Irina, or one of his brothers, we’ve been surrounded.
It’s still been nice, actually. I like seeing Matteo with my family, especially Nadya.
He’s so kind to her, and treats her like a new friend rather than a bothersome twelve-year-old.
He doesn’t mind her sass, and tends to find her funny rather than abrasive.
His kindness seems to know no bounds. So, I don’t think I could have found a better man to share my first real kiss with.
When I was little, I used to dream of being kissed by a prince the way Matteo kissed me, but after the last few years, I never expected those dreams to be a possibility—let alone a reality.
Matteo may not be royalty in the traditional sense, but he’s mafia royalty.
A Prince of The Outfit who’s as gallant as he is charming.
He even looks dashing while he’s eating.
“I think I want to start teaching a ballet class or two,” I tell him quietly, trying not to be overheard.
I don’t want my family to know before I’m sure about my plans.
We’re in the backyard, each of us enjoying a pint of ice cream—his filled with Oreo chunks, and mine with caramel waffle cone pieces.
But of course, we aren’t entirely alone.
My father is just inside, and Nadya is off exploring the gardens only tens of feet away from us.
“You do?” Matteo asks, sticking his spoon into his container to give me his full attention. “That’s amazing. What made you decide that?”
“Well,” I start, swallowing my last bite. “You said that you thought I would be a good teacher. And Nadya asked me for advice with some of her turns yesterday after you left. It felt nice, helping her out.”
Matteo grins, hearing my explanation. “I’d love to see you teaching. I bet you’d be every little ballerina’s favorite face to see at their lessons. Do you have a plan? Or are you still considering what it would look like for you?”
I flush and set my ice cream down, my hands going cold from holding it for too long.
“I was thinking that I could offer private lessons to the daughters of my father’s men.
They could come here. My studio is big enough, and I wouldn’t have to worry about security.
Once I get to know them better, I could offer a group class for them as well. ”
Matteo hums. “I doubt your dad would mind people coming in and out of here either—if they’re his own men’s families. It’s kind of genius, Anya. I told you you were smart. I knew it as soon as I saw you.”
“You’re always seeing the best in me,” I murmur, warmth filling my chest.
His head shakes. “I think I’m just seeing you.”
“Matteo, are we still friends?” The question flies out of my lips, bursting out of me before I can think twice about it. “I mean, is that all we are? Just friends?”
His face shifts, but not in discomfort or in fear. He softens, his blue eyes becoming less striking and almost shaded. “We’re always going to be friends, but I think we both know there’s nothing just about us anymore. We’re something more, aren’t we?”
My heart stutters a beat. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted something more.”
Matteo takes my hand, not caring if anyone sees.
“I never would have kissed you if I didn’t want—no, need—more.
I would never lead you on in that way. The only reason I haven’t said anything is so that I don’t scare you off by moving too fast. I’m at your mercy, meraviglia.
But you should know, that’s exactly where I want to be. ”
“It’s not too fast,” I confess, feeling his warmth radiate from my hand all the way up my arm. “It might even be too slow. I…I feel like I don’t ever want to live another day where I don’t get to be with you. I want us.”
“You want to be my girl, Anya Morozov?” Matteo asks, voice gruff.
“More than anything.”
“You want to know how I feel about you, my sweet meraviglia?”
I gulp. “Y-yes, I do.”
“You make me feel like I’m a whole new person.
Life was dull with occasional pops of color before you.
Now it’s a goddamn rainbow whenever you’re near, and I feel like I could scream when I’m without you.
Not seeing your face for two months was hell, but I was so fucking proud of you, and happy for you that you were getting the help you needed. ”
He inhales, catching his breath from saying so many words so quickly.
“You say you want to know how I feel about you? I’ve been in love with you for far too long to admit when it happened.
I didn’t even know it was happening at first, and there was nothing I could do to stop it from happening—not that I ever would.
Anya, you’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of in a wife, and unless you decide otherwise, I plan to make that dream come true eventually.
I love you, and you don’t need to say it back—”
I cut him off before he can continue. “I love you too. I don’t know if I know how to love you yet, but I won’t deny that I do. You make me so happy. So much so that I’ve been waiting days just to kiss you again.”
Matteo doesn’t care that we might be seen, he hears my desire to kiss him, and he makes it happen. He closes the space between us in almost an instant, cupping my face and pulling me close.
Once again, his mouth tastes like chocolate, and I find that it may be my new favorite flavor.
His face has only the slightest bit of stubble, the hair beginning to grow back after being freshly shaved.
The warmth of his soft lips steals away the remaining cold from mine, and I sigh against his mouth.
Matteo loves me.
The reality sinks in, and I’m filled with warm, fuzzy butterflies.
We share the same air, breathing in from our noses as our lips part and our eyes flutter open.
“Ya tebya lyublyu,” he says, the words brushing against my lips.
I gasp, hearing the lovely Russian coming from him.
“How…”
“I’ve been learning a little,” he says, continuing to speak in my family’s language. “Ivan, Dmitri, and Anatoly have been taking turns teaching me for the last few months. Anatoly says my accent is shit, but that I learn quickly.”
“Oh my God.” I grab his face and claim his lips, kissing him hard and fast. “I can’t believe you would do that for me. I don’t know even a little bit of Italian.”
“Yeah, well—”
Whatever he’s going to say is cut off by the sound of slamming doors and yelling. It’s too fast to understand what’s going on before Uncle Lev has stormed over to us and forced us to separate. There’s no time to protest as things escalate faster than I can speak.
My uncle grabs Matteo by his shirt, pulling him to his feet and winding his arm back before throwing it forward. The sound of his fist connecting with Matteo’s face is a sickening crack that makes me shout in high-pitched shock.
Matteo grunts but he doesn’t collapse. He’s knocked off balance and catches himself by dropping to one knee, his hand flying up to his jaw, holding the area where he’s just been struck.
“Fuck,” Matteo spits.
“Uncle Lev!” I screech, eyes widening in horror.
“Don’t fucking touch her,” my uncle growls, pointing an accusatory finger down at my boyfriend.
My boyfriend.
Matteo is mine, and my uncle just assaulted him for no reason.
Mustering up all my strength, I shove my uncle away. I’m not even surprised when he stumbles to the side.
“How could you?” I demand, voice cracking.
“He kissed you.” He says the word like it’s a mortal sin, like it’s dirty.
“I kissed him!” I scream, pushing him again. He doesn’t move this time. Aunt Irina has finally caught up to her husband, and my dad seems to have realized what just happened as he comes jogging out to meet us all.
“Get out,” I demand, snarling up at my uncle. “Go away! I don’t want to see you again until you apologize for what you just did.”
“Anya, it’s okay—” Matteo starts but stops as soon as I whirl around to look at him. He must see the determination on my face because he immediately closes his mouth.
“Get out,” I snap again, glaring up at my uncle.
“Lev, love.” Aunt Irina grabs his arm softly. “Go walk it off.”
“Fine,” he snaps. Not at her, not at me, not at anyone really.
I turn back to Matteo and make him let me look at his face, feeling devastated by the red mark that’s already blooming on his jaw.
“Hey, I’m okay,” he insists, blinking down at me. “I’ve had worse, trust me. It’ll probably bruise, but I’ll live.”
My heart sinks. “This isn’t funny.”
“Come on, let’s get some ice on it,” Dad says, nodding to Matteo. “We need to talk.”
“If you hit him too, I’ll never forgive you,” I vow, the venom in my voice almost unrecognizable.
“I’m not going to hit him, dochen’ka,” he assures me, his tone gentle and forgiving despite the way I just snapped at him. “I’ve been expecting this to happen, Anya. I’m not angry with him, nor am I upset with you. Okay?”
Seeing the sincerity written all over his face, I give in. “Fine.”
“I’ll be back soon,” Matteo says, pressing his lips to my temple before following my father back into the house.
Once my aunt and I are alone, she steps closer to me. “I’m sorry for—”
“Don’t apologize for him,” I interrupt, too tired to be angry with her. “You didn’t make him do that.”
“I couldn’t stop him either,” she replies, almost wincing. “I called for your father as soon as Lev saw the two of you, but I wasn’t fast enough.”