55. Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Five
Mariella
“ G iulia arranged it for me while we were out last night,” Mateo says matter-of-factly.
I spin around in his arms to face him.
“Why? That was presumptuous of you. What made you think I’d want to share a bed with you after only one kiss?”
He lifts an eyebrow as if to say, “Really? You’re seriously asking?”
Am I that much of a foregone conclusion?
Cocky bastard.
“Two kisses, technically,” he smirks.
“I have no words,” I say, staring at my clothes that are all hung neatly on the right side of this room like they’ve always been there.
He pulls me closer against his body and I sink into his warmth. My synapses are all firing off in different directions.
I’m excited, thrilled. It’s a confirmation I didn’t know I needed that he’s serious.
But this is all moving so fast.
What will Giulia think of me? What will happen when my father finds out?
And my mother? What will she say? Not ten days ago, she packed all these clothes because I was set to marry Renaldo Conti. And now, they’re here in Mateo’s space.
“Half of my closet has been waiting for your clothes for years,” Mateo breaks the silence, his voice sincere, reverent even. “I’ve always kept this side of the room,” he gestures to where all my things are, “empty and ready for when I found you.”
That glow in my stomach spreads to every cell in my body.
I gaze up at him and he smiles softly.
That smile!
It’s going to be my undoing. I swear when he smiles at me like that, I’d follow him to the gates of hell. Pathetic, right?
Mateo gives me a cheeky wink and adds, “Now that you’re mine, you belong by my side. Your clothes hang beside mine, you sit beside me at the table, and you most definitely belong in my bed.”
My cheeks heat at his declaration.
“Part of me can’t believe this is real,” I admit. “I’m scared this is a phase for you. That you’ll grow bored with me. You’re known to never bed the same woman twice. How can I possibly keep your interest? Your affection? You’re used to variety, to experienced women. I can’t give you what they can. I never will.”
“Never compare yourself to other women again,” he says firmly. “You, Mariella Accardi, are the perfect woman for me.”
“Why?” My voice wavers. “Up until we got to Rome, you never saw me, even though I’ve been there all along.” I finally voice what’s been eating at me.
“I asked you this last night,” I press on, “and you told me about your search for the One, and how you’re sure I’m it, but…” I throw my arms in the air, my thoughts scattering as I search for the right words.
“Put yourself in my shoes,” I continue, my voice getting wobblier as the hurt of the past surfaces. “Imagine being in love with me from afar. You’re around me, but I never see you. Instead, I’m with lots of different guys, and it’s like a knife to the heart every time you hear another story of my conquests. And then one day, I suddenly register your existence and I see you. It’s like a light switch has flipped, and I look at you like you’re everything. Wouldn’t you have doubts?”
He steps closer, his gaze locking onto mine with a mix of regret and determination. His voice is low and steady, but the emotion in it makes my chest tighten.
“I’m so, so sorry I hurt you, Mari.” His hand drops to mine, holding it tightly as his voice grows thicker.
“My past, my reputation… I never considered it would hurt anyone. But yeah, if I put myself in your shoes, I get it. The thought of you with other men makes me murderous. I want you just for me, and I guess it’s the same for you.”
Tears build in my eyes as I nod.
“I hate that I ever hurt you. And I hate that my foolishness makes you doubt how deeply I feel for you.”
He lowers his forehead against mine while wiping away the tear that spilled over.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to make you trust me, trust in us. I promise this isn’t just a phase, like you called it. This is the real deal.”
“Please forgive me for having been so blind.” His tone is filled with quiet anguish. “I was searching everywhere outside our circle for my One, thinking she had to be someone I hadn’t met yet, someone new. But I was a fool!
“I didn’t see what was right in front of me, the one person who could truly make me whole.”
He pauses, his hand lifting to brush a strand of hair from my face, his touch feather-light. “Because you, Mari, make me feel whole.
“And I promise you, I will spend the rest of my life making up for the hurt I caused. You are my One. My fate. My everything.”
His words pierce through my doubts, wrapping around me like a warm embrace.
When he leans in to kiss me, it’s not just a kiss. It’s an apology, a promise, a vow that I feel in my soul.
As he pulls back, his eyes search mine.
“I get that this seems like it’s happening out of the blue for you. But for me? It’s been decades in the making. I always knew that once I found my One, found you, there’d be no need for a lengthy courtship. Things would simply fall into place. And they have.”
He pauses, brushing his thumb along my jawline. “Admittedly, unlike you, I had a few days to grow certain of my feelings for you—”
“Well, I had a few years to be sure of mine,” I interrupt him with a laugh.
He looks adorably sheepish. “Yeah. There’s that.”
Before I can tease him further, he leans in and kisses the tip of my nose, a playful glint in his eyes.
“Just goes to show you’re much smarter than me, much more in tune with your feelings. But,” he arches a brow at me, “what I was trying to say before you so rudely interrupted me is that we need some time together to get to know each other—”
“Well, we have the rest of our lives for that,” I cut in, grinning.
“Interrupting me again ?” he asks, mock exasperation coloring his tone. In one swift move, he tickles my side, and I squeal, squirming to escape his reach. But he only pulls me closer, his arms secure and comforting around me, as he presses a kiss to my temple.
“I want time with you,” he murmurs, his voice deliciously rough. “No distractions. No chaos. I’d like to take you to my place in Tuscany. Just you and me.”
“No entourage?” I ask, raising a brow in surprise.
“No entourage,” he confirms, his grin widening.
My heart skips a beat at the thought of being alone with him, away from everything else.
“I would love that. When can we go?”
We left after Mateo made the necessary arrangements for his absence. During that time, I packed a bag for both of us, and messaged Isa that I’d be gone for a few days and leaving the phones behind, just as Teo requested. I also picked up a basket filled with food and drinks from Giulia.
She hugged me tightly, and all my worries about what she might think of me vanished.
“I’m so happy for you two,” she had whispered in my ear. “I had an inkling about this. The way Mateo fussed over you after your father’s visit… well, that told me everything I needed to know. You’re good for him, mia cara .”
A mix of gratitude and admiration settles in my chest. Mateo had shown his care in ways I hadn’t even fully realized, and hearing it acknowledged made my heart swell.
We set off in his Ferrari, Romeo trailing behind us in another car.
Since Mateo had insisted on no entourage, I was confused. He quickly explained that Romeo’s role in following us was purely to appease Santino, the head of security, until we could slip more discreetly off the radar.
After a half-hour drive, we pulled into a remote storage facility where the actual plan unfolded.
Mateo stepped out of the car, his tailored suit giving way to something far more relaxed. Watching him change into fitted jeans and a casual shirt left me hot and bothered.
Then came the real surprise. Mateo swapped the Ferrari for something that left me speechless.
Before I could express my bewilderment, Romeo bid us goodbye with a casual bro-hug for Mateo and a playful kiss on my cheek. It made me blush and Mateo growl.
The ‘off the radar’ vehicle wasn’t a sleek, flashy sports car, but an ordinary Fiat four-wheel drive. It’s a nice enough car, but I never imagined seeing Mateo in something like this. I suppose that’s the point.
The drive to Tuscany takes hours, but they fly by in his company. Our conversation flows easily, and I get to see a side of Mateo that’s far more light-hearted than he usually shows.
We start with lighter topics, like favorite music, my love of the guitar, and how I taught myself to play. Then, his curiosity shifts to my fashion drawings and how I learned to sew.
In turn, I pepper him with questions about his life. I ask about his work, and his enthusiasm lights up as he talks about a new line of innovative, fail-proof false identity products his team is developing.
When I ask what it was like to grow up as the son of the Don, he doesn’t hold back, sharing the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Through it all, what stands out the most is how close he and his brother are. It warms my heart, that in the harsh and icy world he grew up in, he always had someone who had his back.
The conversation turns to his mother. Despite him being so young when he lost her, his love and affection for her are palpable.
“ Mamma and papà always touched,” he says, smiling. “She knew how to soothe him when he was worked up, which was often. After she passed, papà became cruel. With no one daring to hold him accountable, it wasn’t surprising.”
He grows quiet for a moment, lost in thought, before his gaze returns to me. “You have that effect on me too.”
“I do?”
“Yes.” He nods, his voice low and warm. “When you’re near, my mind quiets.”
He holds my gaze, his eyes full of emotion. “I love it. When I’m with you, I feel like I can come back to being me.”
My heart melts at his words. “I hope I’ll always have that effect on you,” I say softly.
Compared to the indifference, and at times, animosity my father displayed toward my mother, Mateo’s affection is like a dream.
“I love that your parents had such a wonderful relationship,” I add. “It’s not something I grew up with.
“If I used my parents’ marriage as a benchmark, the world would be a sad place. I always hoped for something better, even though I knew my father would arrange my marriage based on his interests, not mine.”
I let out a heavy sigh. The day he told me I was to marry Renaldo still lingers like a shadow. Shaking it off, I continue, “Isa inspired me the most to keep believing in love.”
“Your sister?” Mateo asks, his brows pulling together. “How so?”