Chapter 22
Present
Upper-East Side, New York City
THE CITY GLITTERED BENEATH US like an ocean of gold as the doors to the private elevator opened into our new home.
Manhattan at night always felt alive – ruthless, unapologetic, hungry.
We stepped inside, the metal doors sliding shut behind us with a soft sigh.
Neither of us talked. After two days of photographers, vows, family, champagne, blood, murder, and smiling until my face hurt, silence felt like the only answer.
A penthouse – recently purchased by Matteo in the last week, and where I’d had some of my things delivered.
Two floors of glass and warmth, soft lamplight pooling across walnut floors and cream furniture.
Textured walls, smoky sheer curtains near the wide panoramic windows.
It smelled faintly of bourbon and vanilla, and something darker – perhaps his cologne lingering in the air.
Matteo dropped the keys on the marble console by the entrance, the sound loud in the dark quiet.
“I had your things set up in a different bedroom from mine,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “Before the wedding.”
He watched me. I knew he was waiting for a reaction – to the apartment, to him, to us.
“You want a tour?” He asked eventually.
I shook my head. “No. Too tired.”
“Alright. Bedroom’s upstairs.”
We moved in silence. Our steps echoed up the sweeping staircase – white marble, slightly curved, with railings that caught the light like melting gold. My hand grazed the banister, fingers trailing over the cool stone. It was beautiful here, warm and intimate in a way I didn’t expect him to choose.
At the top of the stairs, he kept walking down the long hallway. But I stopped in front of the first open door on the left.
He noticed my absence immediately, stopping a few feet ahead and turning to face me. His voice held a hint of tension at the edges.
“What are you doing?”
“Going to sleep?”
He stared at me for a beat, jaw clenched. “Our bedroom is here.”
There was something I couldn’t place in his voice.
I scoffed, crossing my arms and glancing away. “You don’t actually believe we’re going to sleep in the same bed?”
“Why not? We did last night. And it was amazing.”
“Yeah. One time. Out of necessity.”
His voice lowered. “You’re not sleeping in another room, Francesca. We’re married now.”
“Fake married,” I shot back.
His jaw tightened. “Francesca – ”
“I’m not arguing over this.” My hand was already on the doorframe. “I want my own room. End of discussion.”
A silence stretched between us – long enough to hear the hum of the city through the sixty-story windows. He didn’t say another word.
Something ugly and painful twisted in my chest.
It felt like there was suddenly an entire ocean between us – one I didn’t know how to cross, and wasn’t even sure if I should.
Taking a deep breath, I looked at him one last time – his eyes unusually unreadable – before I stepped inside.
“Goodnight, Matteo.”
The door closed with a soft, final click.
I didn’t sleep well.
No matter what position I tried, I couldn’t sleep.
I was too cold. Too exposed. Too alone.
The morning couldn’t have come sooner. The moment the sun raised, I got up and got on with my day, making sure to take a tour around the penthouse. But not before watching the sunrise from my room, secretly wondering if Matteo was doing the same.
I hated that I loved Matteo’s taste. But was happier my new home for the next year would be comfortable.
I was in the kitchen making coffee when I heard him come in.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
It was past eleven in the morning and his hair was wet and messy. But he smelled good after a shower, even from across the room.
He frowned with a smile.
“Good morning, wife.”
I rolled my eyes, pretending not to be affected by the fact that I was finally experiencing the real him. Sweatpants and a crewneck, on a regular day. It made me aware I’d never seen him this relaxed – even Hawaii, was just suits and swim-trunks. But this felt… Intimate. Domestic.
He took a seat across me at the kitchen island, and poured himself some coffee.
“How long you been up?”
I shrugged. “Not long.” Four hours.
“You had a chance to look around?”
“Yeah, I love it.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad.”
“Mhm,” I pressed my lips together, focusing on my coffee instead of the six-five, two-hundred-pounds-plus man in front of me who’d fucked me every which way to Sunday, without actually being inside me.
Matteo stood and walked around the island. “You got plans tonight? I was thinking we could–”
“I do, actually. Yes.”
“You do?” He rounded the counter, raising a brow.
“That’s what I said, Matteo.” I stood, trying to get past him, but he blocked my way.
“So if I asked any of the girls, they’d say you got plans together?”
I swallowed dry. “Not with the girls.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I’m going out. I guess I’ll see.”
“See what?”
“What’s out there.”
He smirked, not falling for it. “Really?”
“Mhm…” I nodded but didn’t sound convinced.
“Yeah… There’s not a chance in Hell that’s happening, wife.” He leaned in, catching me in his arms. “Not after our steaming wedding night. I still got wet dreams about this pussy.”
“You can dirty talk all you want, Matteo. I’m going out.”
“You can do whatever you want, baby. But you’re not ‘seeing what’s out there.’”
Before I could retort, his big hands squeezed my waist and lifted me up until I was sat on the kitchen island. Matteo stepped between my legs, settled his hands on either side of me and leaned in. An effort to break down my control.
“I’m not going to go celibate for a year for you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” He murmured, kissing my neck.
“I’m a woman, Matteo. I have needs.”
“Mhm,” He hummed, nipping my neck before stroking the sting away with his tongue. “Well, I believe it would be my job as your husband to take care of all of your needs.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means…” Pulling back, he cupped my chin. “Whenever. Wherever. You need it, you come to me for it.”
“I told you I won’t let you fuck me, Matteo.”
“Who said anything about sex?”
“You.”
“I’m sure we can accommodate to your preferences.”
I thought it over for a moment, looking into Matteo’s golden eyes, and loving the way he was looking at me.
“Need it, huh?”
“Need it, want it, crave it, love it. Call it what you want.”
“So…” I dragged a manicured finger down his muscular chest. “Frenemies with benefits. That’s what you’re suggesting?”
“Do you have a better idea? We already know we work good together in that category…”
I raised a brow. “This could get messy.”
A slow smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Preferably.”
I felt my cheeks blush. “You’re sure?”
“Very.”
“When would this… Arrangement start?”
Matteo smirked, leaning down and capturing my bottom lip between his. “Right now, Mrs Di’Ablo.”
Still sitting on the island, I leaned back and parted my legs wider, my vintage Prada pencil skirt riding up my thighs.
Matteo smiled against my neck, nipping me softly with those straight, white teeth, while his hand moved between my legs. I sighed at the pressure, my head falling back as I melted into him.
“Hm…” His chest rumbled, the sound dropping like a weight between my thighs. “You know, there is something I want in return…”
“I understand what benefits mean, Matteo. I will return the favor when I get back from work.”
He chuckled, rubbing my pussy a little rougher. “As fucking deliciously tempting as that sounds… I want something else, Donna.”
I rolled my eyes, coming back up to face him. “What do you want, Mr Di’Ablo?”
“You. In my bed. Every night.”
“Matteo…”
“That’s all I want. Nothing else.”
I sighed, meeting his eyes again. “Nothing else?”
“I want you right next to me so I can pleasure this pretty pussy whenever I want,” He murmured against my lips, tempting me. “What do you say, Donna? Will you share a bed with your Capo?”
“Will you spank me if I say no?”
A breath of amusement left him. “I’d make you come until you said yes.”
“Hm… In that case, I think I still need a little convincing…”
He smiled against my lips before moving lower and lower… My back arched off the counter when he pulled my panties to the side.
Having my body worshipped like this every morning before work…
I could get used to this.
I could get used to him.