76. Chapter Seventy-Six
Chapter Seventy-Six
Mariella
M ateo loves me. I see it in his eyes every time they meet mine, feel it in his touch when our skin brushes.
Could I be selfish?
Could I hold on to him and keep this secret buried deep?
Marry him, live a happy life by his side, all while carrying the unbearable weight of my father’s betrayal?
But it wouldn’t end there, would it?
Father would demand things from me, small at first, a whisper here, a suggestion there, until I was trapped, feeding Mateo information, nudging him toward decisions that served my father’s agenda.
And then what?
No!
Woman up, Mari. Do it.
I take a slow, steadying breath and step into the room. The movement startles Mateo, and his gaze snaps to mine.
Pain. So much pain.
It’s raw, etched into every line of his face, bleeding from his eyes, and my heart shatters for him.
He holds out his arms, and I don’t hesitate. I go to him.
He pulls me into his lap, burying his face in my neck, his body trembling against mine. And then he breaks. He doesn’t hold back his tears. They’re hot, wet against my skin, soaking into my shirt, making the guilt in my chest swell unbearably.
For everything.
For being my father’s daughter. For the way he uses and manipulates people, indifferent to the destruction he leaves behind. For Mateo, who deserves so much more than this.
I wind my arms around him, holding him tighter, pouring every ounce of love I have into this embrace. I want to cocoon him, shield him from the evil pressing in on us.
We stay like this for a long time, wrapped around each other, his breathing ragged and uneven against my throat. Slowly, his sobs subside, his breathing growing steadier.
He lifts his head, and when our eyes meet, it’s like he’s laid himself bare.
Pain. Love. Hope.
And for this moment, I feel privileged to be allowed in. Because after what I’m about to tell him, I know this will end. The warmth, the trust, the way he lets me see into his soul… it will all be gone.
A lump rises in my throat, thick and suffocating. I don’t want to lose this. Lose him.
I cradle his face in my hands, my thumbs brushing away the lingering wetness on his cheeks. He leans into my touch like he needs it, like he’s been holding himself together by sheer force of will and I’m the only thing keeping him from shattering.
My chest aches.
I pull his face to mine and kiss him, telling him without words how much he means to me.
The moment our lips meet, something inside us breaks loose. The kiss turns desperate within seconds, frantic and deep, a collision of grief and longing. His hands grip my waist, pulling me closer, pressing me against him like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.
I pour everything into it. All the love, all the devotion, all the silent apologies for what’s to come. Because after tonight, after the truth is out, I won’t ever get to hold him like this again.
And I can’t bear it.
His fingers thread through my hair, tilting my head back as his mouth claims mine with an intensity that steals my breath. I match it, meeting him with equal fervor, grasping at his shirt, his shoulders, anything to ground me in this moment, to make it last.
His heart is hammering against mine, or maybe it’s my own. I can’t tell where he ends and I begin, and I don’t want to.
I just want this…. him.
But it’s slipping through my fingers.
And soon, there will be nothing left.
Teo shifts beneath me, his hard length pressing against my thigh, and it’s like a switch flips in my brain. Suddenly, I can’t think of anything else.
“Teo, I want you so much. I want to help you forget.”
Help me forget, too. Give me something no one can take away.
His breath hitches. “What?” His voice is deep, rough with arousal and something else. Confusion, hesitation?
“I want us to make love. Now. I want to give this to you.”
He searches my eyes, his gaze sharp.
To my shock, he says, “Then let’s get married right now.”
Before I can react, he pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contacts with single-minded determination. My heart stutters, my stomach twisting.
No. I can’t marry him. Not like this. Not with the weight of my father’s betrayal hanging between us like an invisible guillotine.
I don’t want vows. I don’t want forever. Because I can’t have it.
I just want this. This moment, this feeling, before everything crumbles.
The phone rings, over and over, until the unmistakable beep of voicemail fills the silence. I’m so relieved my knees nearly buckle.
“Father Josef. It’s Mateo De Marco. I want to get married as soon as humanly possible. Call me immediately.”
He hangs up and looks at me, eyes steady and unwavering.
“You’re serious,” I whisper.
“Yes. Never more so.”
I stare at him, stunned, my lips parting, but no words come. My expression must be a mess of shock because Teo laughs softly. I don’t join in.
“Mateo, we can’t. ”
“Why not?”
I reach for any excuse, anything but the truth.
“You just lost your brother.”
And I’m carrying the worst secret, one that will destroy us.
His jaw tightens, but his voice remains calm. “Mari, I know what I want. I want you as my wife.”
“Mateo, please. This is insane. You’re not thinking clearly. You’re suddenly the head of this family. You’re grieving.”
“I am, dolcezza. And I’ve never been more certain about anything.”
He cups my face, his thumb grazing my cheek.
“You are it for me. My love, my life. My past, my present, my future, it’s all tied up with you. I can’t think of a better day than this to affirm life, hope, and our dreams.”
A lone tear runs down my cheek, and his gaze follows it before he brushes it away. Slowly, he pulls me closer, his breath mingling with mine.
“You’re mine,” he whispers against my lips.
I shudder, and for a second, I believe him . Believe in us. In a future that isn’t doomed.
But the illusion shatters almost as quickly as it forms.
“Mari, will you marry me?”
I stare at him. He’s so sincere, so certain , and my heart breaks all over again.
“I want to marry you. More than anything in this world.” My voice wobbles, thick with emotion. “I love you so much. Always have, always will. But not tonight . Not on the most tragic day of your life.”
His expression falters.
“But I do want us to make love,” I press again.
God, just once in my life, I need to be selfish. Just once, I need to have him.
“Teo, we don’t have to wait until we’re married. I want this. Now. I want my first time to be with you.”
“And it will be.”
But he doesn’t move, doesn’t reach for me the way I desperately wish he would. Instead, he studies me. Really looks at me.
And I know what he sees. My swollen eyes, the strain on my face, the way I can barely hold myself together.
His brow furrows. “Mari, what’s going on?”
I force a trembling smile, but it crumbles too fast.
“I want you to make love to me while you still look at me the way you do. Like I’m everything. Like I’m yours. ”
His grip tightens, his gaze fierce. “Mari, that will never change. I love you.”
But I see it in his eyes. Concern. Suspicion.
His fingers brush my cheek, his voice softer now. “What’s brought this on? These insecurities? This isn’t like you.”
Tears burn my eyes. I open my mouth, but I can’t say it.
Because the moment I do, I’ll lose him forever.
Now or never, my conscience urges .
My heart squeezes in pain. My throat closes over as if a noose is suffocating me. And really, it is.
What I’m about to tell him will kill everything good between Teo and me. Nothing will ever be the same again.
The bright future he and I dreamed of is going to die.
I can’t bear it.
The tears are streaming freely now.
“Mari,” he winds his arms around me to pull me against his body, and I throw mine around him, holding on tight as if my life depends on it.
These are the last moments of us being okay.
Sobs rake my body.
“ Dolce mia , talk to me.”
Dolce mia . Never again will he call me that.
“I… I…” I stutter.
“I know who shot your brother,” I whisper into his shoulder, unable to look at him.
“What?” Teo pulls away to look at me, and I miss the warmth of his body immediately.
I keep my face down. “I know who the mole is. I overheard a phone call today.”
Mateo doesn’t say anything, but the tension radiating off his body increases by the second. I dare a glance up. His face has lost all color, all the warmth and love there seconds ago gone.
His image blurs with all the tears streaming freely.
“Who?”
I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but it won’t budge.
“Who, Mari?” His tone is more demanding now, more like the Mafia boss he just had to become.
I squeeze my eyes shut. The words taste like poison, burning my throat on the way out.
“My father. My father shot your brother.”
I force out the words, my voice almost inaudible.
But he heard.
Mateo heard loud and clear.
He rears back and jumps up as if burned, putting me on my feet to stand alone.
“How do you know?”
“My father ordered me into his office today. He was on the phone when I got there, and he was talking about…” I hesitate, not wanting to relive that moment that changed everything in my life.
“About what?”
“Your brother’s demise, and about a deal he’s made.”
“Who was he talking to?”
“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me. But he admitted to shooting your brother himself and to conspiring with Molinaro for years. He gloated about how he did all of this right under your and Tiero’s noses.”
He doesn’t say anything, but the silent fury erupting from him is burning hotter than the lava in Mount Etna.
His chest is heaving, and he runs his hand furiously through his hair, as if tearing on it will pull the answers from his head.
“Fuck.” He yells from the top of his lungs. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
Then he storms out.