Chapter 19: Bound By Hatred: Chapter 18

The next morning after I’d showered and dressed, I enjoyed my newfound freedom, even if it was small. Matteo had kept his promise and stashed the ankle monitor in a drawer. I didn’t have to wear that stupid thing, at least for now. I doubted Matteo would still keep his promise if I tried to run again.

We’d both lost our bets and yet we both felt like winners. Life with Matteo was an enigma. He was already leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking coffee when I came out of the bedroom. His smile was so smug I had trouble stopping myself from wringing his neck.  I grabbed a cup for myself, then leaned across from him. “Do you ever feel regret or guilt?”

Matteo’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. “Regret?”

“Yes, you know that feeling normal people have when they’ve done something wrong?” I took a sip. I wasn’t even sure why I was asking, except to wipe that annoying smugness off Matteo’s face.

For a long time Matteo only looked at me until I couldn’t stand it anymore and pretended my coffee was really interesting. Why did I suddenly feel guilty for asking that question?

“There’s little time for guilt and regret in my life,” Matteo said. His voice was quiet and devoid of humor; I couldn’t help but look up, trying to gauge his mood, but as usual he was making it difficult.

“So you do feel it sometimes?”

“Occasionally. But I’ve learned a long time ago that it’s not clever to dwell on the past. I prefer to focus on the future.” With that, his usual charm was switched back on. He strode toward me, set his cup down on the counter, and braced his arms beside me. “Do you ever regret running?”

I opened my mouth to say ‘no’ but for some reason I hesitated. That moment of hesitation was all the answer Matteo needed.

“Why?”

“Because it got someone killed,” I said quietly. I’d managed to forget Sid and his horrible end, but now it all came back. I could have kicked Matteo for bringing the memory back. Especially because I’d come to realize that the life I’d run from wasn’t as horrible as I’d wanted it to be.

Matteo’s expression said he didn’t give a fuck about that, and it was pretty much what I’d expected. “I can tell you without a doubt that I don’t feel guilt over that guy’s death,” he murmured. He ran a hand down my side. “I would have killed every guy that touched you. But we both know I don’t have to because despite plenty of opportunity you were a good girl.”

The way he said ‘good girl’ made my blood boil. I was still trying to come up with a clever comeback when the elevator rang, announcing a visitor. Matteo pecked the tip of my nose with a superior expression before staggering off toward the elevator. I couldn’t believe him.

I was still glaring at his back when the elevator doors slid open and Aria walked into the apartment. She was talking on the phone. To my surprise Matteo moved into the elevator, leaving us alone. I suspected he could lock the elevator from the outside, so I couldn’t leave unless I took a dive out of the window and ended up as a blood splatter on the sidewalk down below.

“Who are you talking to?” I asked as Aria headed toward me.

She gave me a bright smile and held the phone out to me. “Lily and Fabi want to talk to you but Father forbid them from calling you, so…” She trailed off. Of course, I’d suspected something like that. Father had made it pretty clear that he didn’t want me around them anymore.

“Thanks,” I mouthed to Aria before taking the phone from her and pressing it against my ear. “Lily?” My voice was shaky and I had to clear my throat.

“Oh, Gianna! I was so sad when Father didn’t let me say goodbye to you. I’ve been begging him to let me talk to you but he got really mad and now I’m grounded.”

Grounded had always felt like a strange term for our punishment. We had never been allowed to go anywhere alone anyway, so being grounded only meant that we had to stay in the house even more.

“I’m sorry,” I said, trying to keep my anger for our father back. Lily still had to live under his rule. She didn’t need to get in trouble because of me. I walked over to the living area and sank down on the sofa. Aria perched on the edge beside me. “How’s school?” I asked.

“Boring. But at home is even worse. Since you and Aria moved out, nothing fun ever happens anymore,” Lily murmured. My heart ached for her. I’d always had Lily, and for a long time Aria, but Lily would have to survive for years without that kind of support. Of course she still had Fabi but he was a boy and would soon face very different challenges. “What about Fabi?”

“He’s being a pain in the ass,” Lily said. In the background I could hear my brother say something. “You are!” Lily retorted. “Oh shut up. It’s my turn now. You can talk to her later.” There was the sound of grappling and then there was Fabi’s voice in my ear. “Gianna!”

“Shhh, you fathead,” Lily hissed, obviously taking the phone back. “Nobody can know that we’re talking to her.” For a moment there was silence as if they were both listening for sounds, then Lily spoke again. “Is Romero there with you?”

I laughed. “That’s why you’re calling? I thought you wanted to see how I was doing,” I said in a mock hurt voice.

“Of course I want to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine.” There was a pause. Deciding to stop torturing her, I added. “And Romero isn’t here.” I glanced at Aria and she whispered ‘upstairs’. “He’s at Aria’s place, discussing important mob business with our husbands.” Sarcasm dripped from the words. “Do you want me to go upstairs and ask him to talk to you?”

“No!” Lily blurted. “He’ll think I’m in love with him.”

“Aren’t you?”

Silence. Poor Lily, I didn’t have the heart to tell her that there was no chance in hell that Father would ever allow an alliance between my sister and a mere soldier, especially one from New York. Love just wasn’t something that mattered.

“How do I know if I’m in love?” Lily whispered after a while.

Yes, how? I hadn’t been in love with Sid or anyone else. I wasn’t in love with Matteo.

Right?

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“Aren’t you in love with Matteo?”

“Why would you think I was? I ran away, remember?”

“But you’re married now.”

“Marriage doesn’t equal love.”

“It did for Aria,” Lily said. My eyes darted to Aria who was frowning at me.

“You’re right. Maybe you should ask her then.” Before Lily could say another word, I handed the phone to Aria. “Lily wants to know how it feels to be in love.”

Aria took the phone from me, her blue eyes full of concern. She listened to Lily for a moment before she said, “That’s hard to put into words. Love is when you feel safe in someone’s arms, when he’s the first thing you want to see in the morning, love is surrendering. You risk getting hurt but you don’t care. You are willing to give someone the power to break your heart. Love means seeing someone at their worst and still seeing the good in them, love means someone is perfect for you despite their imperfections.” She grew quiet, eyes distant.

I didn’t have to ask; I knew about whom she was thinking. I swallowed hard. I could have never said what Aria had just said. Unwantedly an image of Matteo’s cocky grin flashed in my mind. I’d definitely seen him at his worst that day he’d tortured the Russians.

“But how do I know when I’m in love?” I heard Lily’s whine through the phone.

Yes, how?

“It’s a gradual process. I don’t really know when exactly I started loving Luca. For a long time I thought I hated him.”

I pushed to my feet, suddenly restless. This wasn’t a topic I felt comfortable with. It made my chest feel tight, made me start to panic in an odd way. I hurried into the kitchen and made myself another cup of coffee. After a couple of sips, I returned to Aria who gave me a questioning look. I raised my cup as a way of explanation. “Here,” she said, handing the phone back to me.

“So what else is new?” I asked lightly.

I could practically hear Lily roll her eyes. “Are you going to come to our Christmas party?”

I opened my mouth to say yes, because I’d always been there, then I realized I probably wasn’t wanted anymore. “I don’t know. Things are difficult at the moment.”

“You mean Father doesn’t want you to come.”

“The only reason I would want to come are you and Fabi. I don’t care about anyone else. And maybe you and Fabi can come visit New York in the New Year.”

Lily was silent. “Father said he won’t ever allow us to go to New York again after what you did.”

That shouldn’t have shocked me as much as it did, I suppose. Of course he wouldn’t let Lily out of his sight. He couldn’t risk another one of his daughters turning into a slut. “We’ll figure something out. I’ll ask Matteo if we’re going to Chicago.”

Facing Father again was the last thing I wanted to do. For all I cared I would never set foot on Chicago ground again, but the idea of never seeing Fabi and Lily again was even worse.

“Promise?”

“I promise,” I said. “Now give me Fabi before Father realizes you’re talking to me and not Aria.”

“Hi,” came Fabi’s voice.

“I bet you’ve grown another two inches since I last saw you.”

“When I grow up I’ll be at least 6 feet tall,” he said proudly.

“6 feet 4 at least. You’ll probably be taller than Luca.”

“That would be so cool. I could kick everyone’s ass. Everybody would have to be nice to me and respect me.”

I smiled wistfully. Soon enough people would do that anyway. The cute boy would be replaced by a ruthless killer. “That would be cool,” I agreed. “So do you have any new knives?”

Fabi had a huge collection of knives. A bigger collection of knives a ten year old should have. Of course Father supported my brother’s fascination with weapons.

“No,” Fabi said, sulking. “Father is angry at me.”

“Because of me?”

Fabi didn’t say anything at first but I knew he was shrugging in that cute way he had. “I don’t like how he screamed at you.”

“I don’t like it either, but you have to try not to make Father angry too often, Fabi. I don’t want you to get punished.” Now that I wasn’t available as Father’s favorite punching bag, I worried Fabi might have to bear the brunt of his anger.

“Okay,” he said. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

We hung up and I handed the phone back to Aria.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I nodded half-heartedly. “The party is next weekend, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess I’m not invited?”

Aria grimaced. “Even Luca and I aren’t sure if we should be going.”

“Why?”

“Things are really bad right now. Luca has enough trouble in New York. And he doesn’t want to deal with Dante Cavallaro or Father in addition to that.”

“Fabi and Lily will be really sad if you don’t come to visit.”

“I know,” Aria said with a sigh, leaning against the backrest. “That’s what I’ve been telling Luca. I even suggested I could fly over alone with Romero, so Luca could take care of business here.”

“Let me guess. He hated that idea.”

Aria laughed. “Yeah. He doesn’t trust the Outfit and won’t let me go there without him.”

“I kind of have to agree with him. I wish we could go together though.”

“Maybe next year. Father can hardly stay mad at you forever.”

“Father will still be mad at me when he’s roasting in hell.”

***

As expected, I wasn’t invited to my family’s Christmas party. Officially, Father couldn’t have denied me entrance as Matteo’s wife, but not only would that have been very awkward but Matteo also didn’t want to risk taking me back to Chicago so soon. That night after my body had won over my brain once again and succumbed to Matteo’s charm, I lay naked in his arms, his chest pressed up against my back. I wasn’t sure why I always fell asleep with his arms around me, and worse why I was sometimes longing for his closeness during the day too. So far I’d managed to resist that second notion at least.

“Will I ever see Fabi and Lily again?” I whispered into the silence.

Matteo’s arms around my waist tightened. “If they were part of the Cosa Nostra, Luca could do something, but your father only has to listen to Cavallaro.”

“I know,” I said almost angrily. I knew how things worked in our world. “But can’t we invite my family over for some kind of gathering? Father wouldn’t reject a direct invitation, right?”

Matteo propped himself up and stared down at my face. “Your father would definitely follow the invitation, but he wouldn’t have to take your sister and brother with him. Many men keep their families out of it for security reasons.”

I nodded.

Matteo watched me for a long time and it was starting to make me feel naked in a very different way. I shot him a glare. “What?”

“Luca is very convincing. Maybe he can ask your father to allow Liliana and Fabiano to come for a visit after Christmas. Your father could send his own guards with them if he doesn’t trust us.”

“Why would Luca do that? He and Aria are still welcome in Chicago.”

“If I ask Luca, he’ll do it.”

“And why should you ask him? Aren’t you in enough trouble already because of Bardoni and getting rid of my ankle monitor?”

Matteo twirled a strand of my hair around his finger. “I’d do it for you. You are my wife and I want to make you happy.” His smile was teasing and yet what he’d said had sounded sincere.

My heart thudded dangerously, and new panic rose up. What was happening? Fear of my own emotions got the better of me. “If you really care about me and want to see me happy, let me go. All I’ve ever wanted was freedom and a normal life.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I realized I wasn’t sure if they were still the truth.

Matteo’s expression shut off, something hard and cold settling in his eyes. He lay back down and extinguished the lights. I almost apologized and reached out for him.

His lips brushed my ear. “I guess then that means I don’t care enough. Because letting you go? That’s the one thing I’ll never do.”

***

After that conversation, our interactions in the next few days were reduced to sex once again.

To my surprise, I missed our banter. I even missed Matteo’s stupid cockiness and that annoying shark-grin, but most of all I missed falling asleep with his fingers tracing the soft skin of my inner forearm.

Christmas time was definitely turning into my own personal nightmare. Matteo and I were invited to three more parties, all of them either hosted by high-ranking mobsters, or business men with close connections to the mob. All of them too important to offend by not attending. I really hoped Matteo wouldn’t kill any more hosts though. The Bardoni debacle so far had been without consequences but I still wasn’t entirely sure it would stay that way. At some point people would undoubtedly get suspicious.

Now that I wasn’t wearing an ankle monitor anymore, Sandro was my shadow, and when Aria and I went anywhere together, Romero was always there as well. It was ridiculous. Even without a technical device every aspect of my life was out of my control. Married bliss, my ass.

I fixed a wayward strand, which had fallen out of my updo and brushed my hands over my new dress. With all the social events looming in my future, Aria and I had done another big shopping trip. I was starting to feel like one of those trophy mob wives I’d despised all my life. Shopping, social events and warming their husband’s bed was their whole world, and also mine. I glared at my reflection. I even looked all the way like a trophy wife with my hair in that elegant updo and the gorgeous dark green Cocktail dress that hugged my curves. Even my huge wedding ring and the diamond necklace screamed trophy wife. It took all my self-control not to rip the dress off my body and cut my hair off. How could I have become what I’d hated for so long? And how could I be okay with it?

“Aria and Luca are here,” Matteo shouted. “We need to get going.” This was more than he’d said to me outside of the bedroom since that night. With a sigh, I turned away from the mirror and headed toward the living room where Aria, Luca and Matteo were waiting. Matteo looked marvelous in a slim-fit black suit, white shirt and black tie. It was so cliché mobster, but he pulled it off with ease. That man always looked good. His eyes did a quick scan of my outfit and my body responded with a familiar shiver. I’d read about looks that were like sex, but I’d always considered them urban legend. But Matteo had that look down to a T.

I kept my face unaffected as I walked toward them. Aria was an apparition in her dark red dress and with her golden curls. In the past I’d often felt like I could never compete with her but I’d come to realize that I didn’t have to. Luca towered over my sister in a similar suit like Matteo, but it did nothing for me. I stopped beside Matteo and his hand immediately went to my hip. Did he even notice how possessive those small gestures were? In the past, my first reaction to them would have been annoyance followed by a rebuff, but now it seemed almost natural. I wasn’t sure why this was the case, why I molded so easily into the life that had been cut out for me even before my birth. Some people would probably seek an explanation in fate or faith. I’d never considered either option to be valid. I didn’t like the idea that some bigger outer thing controlled who I was and how my life would develop.

“Hey, where are you?” Matteo asked, squeezing my hip lightly. I blinked, focusing on him. I hadn’t even realized we’d stepped into the elevator.

I shook my head. “Thinking off all the ways this evening could end badly,” I lied.

“As long as Matteo keeps his knife in his holster and you keep your mouth in check, things should go smoothly,” Luca muttered, sending both Matteo and me a glare. “Tonight is important. Several of the attending business men are under pressure from the Russians. I want to show strength and make a good impression. It would be even better if you could manage not to offend the wives.”

“Why me? What about Aria?”

“Aria knows how to behave herself. She’s the perfect lady whereas you are anything but.”

Aria touched Luca’s chest. “Be nice to my sister.”

“I’m not rude to everyone. Only people I don’t like,” I said pointedly.

“Which will be everyone at the party,” Matteo interjected. “They are insufferable, believe me.” We exchanged a grin, then as if remembering our ‘kind of fight’ from a few nights ago, looked away from each other. I could see Luca give Aria one of those secret looks they always shared.

“Just behave yourself,” Luca said. “Both of you. It’s like God’s sent you two to me to test my patience.”

Aria giggled and hit Luca’s shoulder lightly, but her eyes were sparkling with adoration. Would I ever look at someone like that? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. It seemed like she was baring her soul for everyone to see and she didn’t even mind.

Together we stepped out of the elevator and into the freezing cold parking garage. I shivered. I hadn’t taken a coat with me because I only had to walk from the elevator to the car and then from the car to wherever the party was taking place, but now I regretted it. It was mid-December after all. One month since Matteo had caught me. Sometimes it was hard to believe so much time had passed already.

Matteo let go of me, removed his jacket and put it over my shoulders. His warmth and scent enveloped me, and I caught myself drawing in a deep breath.

“Thanks,” I said half-embarrassed.

Luca had done the same for Aria despite the short way to the car. Aria and I settled in the back of Matteo’s Porsche Cayenne while Luca and Matteo sat in the front. It seemed the men weren’t worried anymore that I’d try to jump out of the driving car to escape. Maybe they, too, had noticed how easily I’d settled in.

Aria leaned over to whisper in my ear. “I know you don’t want to see it but you and Matteo are like you were made for each other.”

I shot her a look, ignoring the way my pulse sped up with an emotion I didn’t even want to think about. “Don’t even start.”

Aria shrugged. “It’s the truth. And he’s really trying. They aren’t perfect but they are trying to be good to us. You don’t look unhappy.”

I wasn’t exactly unhappy, but I tried to attribute it to Aria’s constant presence in my new life. It was the convenient explanation. I didn’t say anything, couldn’t come up with a witty reply that wouldn’t sound utterly fake.

We sat in silence after that and yet I felt like my silence was more of an answer than I liked. I was actually relieved when we finally pulled up in front of a luxury apartment building not unlike the one Matteo and I lived in. A doorman rushed toward our car and opened my door. Good thing he didn’t see both Luca and Matteo reach for their weapons, always ready for an attack.

I thanked the guy who looked like he was barely my age, and got out. Aria followed quickly. We handed the jackets back to our husbands before walking into the brightly lit lobby. Another doorman waited next to the elevator and clicked the correct button for us.

As we rode up toward the top floor, Matteo leaned close and murmured, “Don’t forget to behave yourself.” He winked at me when he pulled back and I knew we’d be in trouble. Matteo’s expression promised that he had absolutely no intention to be good tonight.

The party took place in a huge penthouse overlooking the city. It was not quite as big as Luca’s but definitely showy. The walls were covered with drawings by Picasso, Warhol and Miró, all of them originals, and I had a feeling the furniture was as pretentious, but everything had been removed to fit two long tables for eighty guests into the room as well as a dozen bar tables where guests could mingle before dinner.

The noise level was overwhelming despite the size of the penthouse and there wasn’t anything Christmas-y about the decoration except for an abstract glass nativity scene on the mantle and an even more abstract glass Christmas tree in one corner. Aria and I looked at each other and almost burst into laughter.

My mood dropped the moment the host and hostess, a middle-aged couple that looked even more fake than their tree approached us. I braced myself for the disgusted once-over, but the woman smiled at Aria and me the same way.

The hostess who introduced herself as Miriam practically beamed at me, though it looked almost scary because her face was frozen from too many Botox-treatments. “You must be the beautiful new bride,” she said, and kissed me on both cheeks.

“Yes, thank you,” I said, startled.

I darted a confused look at Matteo. He must have read it right because he leaned toward me while host and hostess spoke to Luca and Aria. “They aren’t part of our culture. They don’t give a crap about our rules and morals,” Matteo whispered.

The hostess turned back to us. “Dinner starts in thirty minutes. But please help yourself to our delicious Hors d’oeuvres and Champagne.” She pronounced Champagne in an odd French accent, which almost made me laugh again, but I pulled myself together and smiled politely instead. The woman had been kind to me, so I had to act accordingly, even if Luca thought I was incapable of pleasantness.

I glanced around, only spotting one familiar couple, that I assumed must be part of the mob or I wouldn’t have recognized them. Apart from that, we were blissfully surrounded by strangers, who didn’t call me slut under their breaths, or looked down their noses at me. This was a straight-up social event that normal people, well normal rich people attended. I relaxed. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad.

“Come on. Let’s fill up on some Champagne. We’ll need the buzz to carry us through the boredom,” Matteo said. Luca shot him a scowl, but Matteo merely grinned and led me toward an unoccupied bar table. I grabbed a glass and took a deep gulp. That was the one good thing about living in our world; nobody gave a damn if I was of legal age to drink. The bubbles prickled delightfully on my tongue. It had been a long time since I’d had good Champagne. The last time was at Aria’s wedding.

Matteo smirked.

“What?” I asked, checking my dress for any stains.

“You look like a sophisticated lady.”

“I’m not a sophisticated lady,” I said quickly and was about to take another gulp of Champagne but stopped with the rim against my lips. With a glare, I set it down. “I’m not.”

“I didn’t say you were. I only pointed out that you look it.”

He was right. I fit in, which brought me back to my earlier problem. Why was I becoming more like a trophy wife every day? I downed the rest of my Champagne in one large gulp, not at all lady-like, making Matteo laugh, and I couldn’t help but do too. It felt good to laugh with him, and even better to see mirth banish some of the darkness in his eyes.

Miriam called for everyone to settle around the tables, and asked us to sit next to her with other important guests. Unfortunately Aria had to sit across from me, so I couldn’t even talk to her in case I got bored. I was wedged between Matteo and a woman I didn’t know. Luckily the first course was served almost immediately, so I had something to do. Miriam as well as the other women around us were more interested in Aria anyway, probably because she was Luca’s wife and knew how to do proper small talk.

Suddenly I felt Matteo’s hand on my knee. I shot him a look but he was immersed in a conversation with Luca and the host. I took another bite of my Carpaccio but stopped mid-chew when his hand began its ascend higher, toward the lacy edge of my hold-ups. I had to suppress a small shiver at the sensations his light touch sent straight to my center. I clenched my legs together and tried to focus on the conversation Aria was having with the other women. The corners of Matteo’s lips twitched in reaction. Of course that wasn’t the end of it. When was it ever?

Matteo’s fingers slipped between my legs despite my attempts to lock him out, and then his fingertips slipped under the edge of my panties and lightly stroked the crevice between my leg and vulva. I reached for the glass and took a deep gulp of the wine.

“What do you think, Gianna? Would you be interested?” asked the hostess Miriam. Her eyebrows were raised but due to all the Botox, the rest of her face was static, and her expression resembled one of mild boredom.

My eyes darted to Aria, hoping she’d help me out. I had no clue what Miriam was talking about. Matteo’s fingers had distracted me completely.

“I know you love modern art, and it’s not easy to come by a private tour through the Guggenheim. I’m sure Matteo can spare you for a few hours,” Aria said with a meaningful look.

I could have kissed her. She always saved the day. “Yes, I’d love to –” Matteo’s fingers slipped between my lower lips, gently nudging them apart, finding me wet and aching, the stupid bastard. He was still talking to Luca and the other men as if nothing of interest was going on under the table.

Aria and the other women were watching me expectantly. I cleared my throat and kicked Matteo’s leg hard, before I said. “I’d love to take you up on that offer.” Could I sound any more sophisticated? Trophy wife all the way.

Matteo’s finger traveled up my slit until it reached my clit where he started to draw small circles. I pressed my lips together to stop a moan from slipping out. Thankfully, Miriam went on another monologue about a trip to the Caribbean and I was back to pretending to listen. Only Aria gave me the occasional odd glance, as if she thought I might not be feeling well.

If only she knew. The waiters entered the room with out main course, but I hardly cared.

Without even intending to, I parted my legs a bit more, giving Matteo more room to explore my wet folds. His fingers slipped up and down, teasing my opening, before they returned to my throbbing clit. I clutched my wine glass. It wouldn’t have surprised me if I’d broken it in two from my tight grip. My breathing was shallow. Matteo kept up the slow rhythm, driving me closer and closer toward release. I should have pushed his hand away, should have stopped this madness before this turned into the most embarrassing night of my life, but need had taken over and banished any hint of reason. After a few bites of veal, I put my fork down. I was hungry for only one thing.

Matteo slipped a finger into me and I barely managed to keep in my whimper. I was getting so close. Could I even be silent?

But I was too far gone to care. Matteo still wasn’t looking at me. Instead he was completely focused on the conversation, or at least he pretended to be. I hated him for his acting talent. He brought me closer and closer, taking his time. God, this was the most delicious torture.

His skilled fingers became the whole center of my being until suddenly, without a warning he pulled them away. Shocked, I stared at him, only to realize that the waiters had returned with our dessert, chocolate mousse. Matteo gave me a grin.

I wanted to rip his clothes off and have my way with him, bring him to the brink, only to deny him release. Matteo dipped a finger into the mousse, the finger he’d used to finger me, and slid it into his mouth, licking it clean. “Hm. Delicious.”

My body was humming with desire, but in that moment I wanted to push Matteo’s face down into the stupid mousse. He picked up his spoon and calmly started eating. Aria gave me a questioning look when I didn’t move.

I grabbed my own spoon a bit too tightly and tasted the mousse. It was delicious, creamy and very chocolaty, but now all it did was remind me of Matteo’s fingers and what they had done mere moments before. Two could play this game. Once I was done with my dessert, I slipped my hand under the table and reached between Matteo’s legs. I found him already hard and that knowledge made me ache even more. I considered stroking myself instead of teasing Matteo, but banished the idea. If I wanted to win this game, I needed to play. My fingers closed around Matteo’s erection. He sucked in a quiet breath before his eyes met mine, one corner of his mouth lifting. I massaged him through the fabric of his pants, feeling him grow even harder and bigger. Unfortunately my own body responded too.

Matteo turned his head to an older guy across from him who’d asked him a question and I used the moment to find his tip and start rubbing that. Matteo had had it easier. He didn’t have as many barriers between his fingers and their goal, but as I worked the head of his cock, I could see from the flexing of his jaw that Matteo wasn’t completely unaffected. And other than me, he would have a hard time hiding his arousal if he got up, and an even harder time if he came in his pants. The thought made me smile.

Aria leaned across the table toward me. I really hoped she wouldn’t notice anything. “What’s the matter with you? You’re acting strange,” she whispered.

I shook my head and mouthed ‘later’, but my hand never stopped their work under the table. I hoped Matteo was getting close. It was hard to tell. He’d angled his face away from me and was actually conducting a coherent conversation with the old man. I squeezed a bit tighter, getting annoyed, and finally got another, albeit small reaction. Matteo tensed briefly but then visibly forced himself to relax. I could have screamed in frustration.

I was about to squeeze again, even harder when his hand found mine under the table and pulled it away. I would have clung to his erection if I hadn’t been worried about injuring him. Even if I’d never admit it to anyone, I loved Matteo’s cock, and particularly the things he could do with it. I chanced a look at Matteo and met his gaze. There was hunger in there, but also something else, something that made me want to go running for the hills, because I had a feeling I knew what it was and I was pretty sure I was starting to feel the same. I wrenched my hand away from his hold, pushed my chair back and straightened.

With a small smile at the other guests, I said. “Excuse me.” Without another look at Matteo, I headed straight toward where I hoped to find the restrooms.

It took all my self-control not to run down the long corridor branching off from the main area of the apartment. When I entered the restroom, I released a harsh breath. My cheeks were flushed, but not so much that anyone would suspect anything. That was what I hoped at least. I gripped the edge of the washbasin and squeezed my eyes shut. My heart was slamming against my ribcage. Suddenly someone gripped my hips. My eyes shot open and I stared into the mirror. Matteo towered over me, his gaze practically burning with want. He pressed his hips against my butt. “You left too soon.” His hand slipped under my dress while his other hand pulled down his zipper.

“What are you doing?” I hissed with a glance toward the door. “What if someone comes in?”

“Who gives a fuck? Let them get the show of their lives. It’s probably been years since those bitches got to see a cock.” He pushed my panties aside and thrust two fingers into me. I jutted my butt out, giving him better access. My body seemed to be acting on its own accord even when my brain was screaming at me to push Matteo away.

“Matteo,” I gasped. “Lock the stupid door.”

He moved his fingers in and out in a deliciously slow rhythm. My hips moved against him, forcing his fingers deeper into me.

“Do you really want me to stop so I can lock the fucking door?” He licked my spine from the edge of my dress up to my hairline, then met my gaze in the mirror. I shivered. He slammed his fingers into me again, hitting a sweet spot deep inside of me. His eyes seemed to bore into me, trying to reveal my darkest deepest secrets. My heart lurched, and I knew I’d be doomed if I didn’t stop this madness soon. Sex, that I could deal with, but these moments of silent understanding, these long looks full of too much meaning, they were starting to chip away at the walls I’d taken years to build.

Matteo cupped my breasts through my dress, kneading and pinching my nipple in an almost painful way that made me grow even wetter. I closed my eyes to avoid his eyes and soaked in the sensations. Matteo thrust his fingers into me over and over again. I bit down on my lip to keep the sounds in. Matteo’s lips clamped down on my pulse point, sucking the skin into his mouth. I arched, pushing my butt against his hand with all my might as my orgasm jolted through me.

“Look at me,” Matteo ordered, and my eyes flew open, meeting his. “Yes, like that. Fuck you are so fucking wet and hot.”

I dropped down to my forearms with a shuddering breath, enjoying the last waves of pleasure while Matteo slowed his fingers. He lifted my skirt even higher. I heard him unbuckle his pants and then he wrapped his arms tightly around my chest, pulled me against him and rubbed his tip over my opening. Then he slipped in inch by inch. I tried to jut my butt out, needing to feel him all the way in me, but he didn’t let me. If possible, he slowed even more, edging into me.

“Fuck me,” I whispered harshly.

He reached up and tilted my headed to the side before claiming it with his mouth, his tongue taking possession of me. He had finally sheathed himself completely in me and then after a moment of stillness, he started slamming into me. My hands shot out to grip the edge of the washstand. Matteo drove my body against the cold stone as his cock thrust into me, deep and hard.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Matteo rasped. I moaned in response. It did feel better than anything ever had. Everything about this did. God, what was happening?

I tried to shut my brain off and only focus on the way Matteo’s cock filled me up, how he removed himself almost completely to drive me insane only to slam back into me. The edge of the washbasin dug into my palms as I clung to it. Matteo’s hands moved down, clasping my hips. I threw my head back, gasping and whimpering as I tumbled over the edge again with Matteo close behind. The sound of his moans spurred me on even more. A moment before we both slumped forward, our gazes met in the mirror again. And then I knew why I’d hardly considered running in the last couple of weeks, and it terrified me like nothing ever had.

I quickly looked down, trying to catch my breath, and calm my pounding heart and pulse.

Matteo kissed my shoulder blade. “I’m fucking glad that you are mine.”

I stiffened and would have pulled away if I wasn’t trapped between the washstand and Matteo’s body.

When Matteo eventually pulled out of me and we straightened our clothes and cleaned up, I couldn’t meet his gaze. I wasn’t embarrassed by what we’d done. That ship had sailed. I was confused and terrified by what I’d seen in my own eyes.

MATTEO

During sex there were moments when I was certain Gianna was falling for me, but then always came the time afterward and I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it. In the past I’d always had girls crushing on me even when I never gave them reason to, but Gianna was a difficult nut to crack, and sometimes I caught myself wondering if maybe she’d never fall for me and was only fucking me to get on my good side. Gianna was clever, maybe she was trying to wrap me around her finger with sex so I’d grant her more freedom and she could run away again.

Gianna put a few strands that had fallen out during our quickie back into her updo. She was frowning at her own reflection and pretending I wasn’t there.

When we left the bathroom, she still ignored me. Then she stopped suddenly. “We can’t enter together. Everyone will know what we did.”

I shrugged. I didn’t give a fuck. Gianna was my wife and I’d fuck her whenever I felt like it. “We’ve been gone for a while. They’re probably suspecting already.”

“Great,” Gianna muttered but then she squared her shoulders and headed back to the tables with the other guests without another glance in my direction. So we were back to playing games?

***

That night I woke to an empty bed. I jumped to my feet, and searched the room for a sign of Gianna, but she wasn’t there. How could she have run? I didn’t bother putting on pants. Grabbing my gun holster on the way I stormed out of the room and into the living room.

I had to call Luca and tell him. He’d be furious. He hadn’t been happy when I’d removed Gianna’s ankle monitor. My eyes made out a slender figure in an armchair close to the window. Gianna.

I relaxed and discarded my gun holster on a sideboard before I crossed the room toward her. She must have pushed the armchair closer to the window so she could look out. Her legs were pressed up against her chest and her face rested on her knees. She was fast asleep. But even in sleep her brows were drawn together. I wasn’t sure but she looked as if she’d cried. I stopped beside her, staring down at her sleeping form. She must have moved very quietly for me not to hear her. I was a light sleeper. She’d even managed to put on pajamas. My gaze darted to the elevator console. Had she tried to crack the code and escape? The alarm would have alerted me to any attempts, and yet the suspicion remained. I hated that I didn’t trust her. It wasn’t as if I was used to trusting people, except for Luca, but I wanted to trust my wife. Of course it was difficult to develop trust when Gianna didn’t even have the chance to prove herself.

If I gave her more freedom, and she didn’t try to run, then I could start trusting her, but I had a feeling I’d never see her again if I did. I was too selfish and possessive. I didn’t want to lose her, even if that was what was best for her. My eyes returned to her face and the sadness that seemed to be edged into it.

I slipped my hands under her body and lifted her into my arms. She didn’t wake as I carried her back into our bedroom, back where I wanted her and where she belonged, but where she didn’t want to be.

I put her down on the bed, but I didn’t lie down next to her. I was too angry at myself for my wimpy thoughts. What did it matter if Gianna wanted to be my wife? What did it matter if she’d rather return to Munich and find some other idiot like Sid? She was mine and I wasn’t a good guy. I didn’t give a damn about other people’s feelings. I felt on the edge, like I needed to hit something to get a grip. With a growl, I grabbed my gym clothes, put them on, grabbed my car keys and left the apartment.

I punched the code into the elevator panel and rode it down into the parking garage. I mounted my motorcycle, shot out of the garage and raced through the city toward our gym. Apart from a guard, it was deserted, which was a pity because I would have loved to actually spar with someone, instead of a fucking dummy.

I didn’t bother with boxing gloves. I wanted to feel every hit. Facing the dummy, I started pummeling it, alternating between kicks and punches.

I was still at it when the gym started filling up with familiar faces. Nobody disturbed me. Apart from a short nod, they stayed the fuck away from me. They all knew what was good for them.

“Trying to kill a poor dummy?” came Luca’s drawl.

I landed another hard kick against the head before I turned around to my brother. He wasn’t wearing gym clothes. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.”

“Why?”

“Because you weren’t there when I came to pick you up in your apartment this morning.”

“You went into my apartment while I wasn’t there?”

Luca rolled his eyes. “I didn’t touch your wife, but I left Aria and Romero with her.”

I nodded, trying to calm the fuck down. I was still on edge. I wasn’t even sure why.

“Take a shower and get dressed. You look like you need a drink,” Luca said in his Capo voice.

I didn’t protest. I felt like a truck had run me over. I must have been in the gym for hours. It was already light outside. Luca and I went to one of our dance clubs.  Except for the cleaning ladies, it was still deserted. I grabbed a whiskey bottle from the shelf, and Luca and I settled at the bar. In most social circles it was probably considered too early for alcohol. Luckily we didn’t have to obey those stupid rules.

Luca and I emptied our glasses, then he fixed me with his big-brother-stare. “So what’s going on? Are you already growing tired of your obnoxious wife?”

I downed another glass of whiskey, waiting for the familiar burning to turn into warmth that spread in my chest. “Why do you ask?”

Luca cocked one eyebrow. “Maybe because you prefer spending the night in a sweaty gym than in bed with your young wife.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“And you couldn’t come up with something more entertaining to do than kickboxing a dummy?”

“You’re starting to grate on my nerves,” I said.

Luca ignored my warning tone. “To be honest I’m surprised you lasted this long with her. If I spend more than ten minutes in a room with Gianna, I want to seal my ears with hot wax.”

“I’m not tired of her. I actually like Gianna’s obnoxious personality. She spices things up. Life would be boring if she were like the other trophy wives.”

Luca narrowed his eyes. “Aria isn’t just a trophy wife.”

Of course he was allowed to get angry when I even remotely insulted Aria but he could talk shit about Gianna all the time. “I didn’t say anything about Aria. But I prefer my women…”

“Annoying and foulmouthed,” Luca finished for me, before he took the whiskey bottle out of my hand. “Then what’s the problem? Why are you sulking like a whiny bitch?”

I was waiting for one of my usual clever comebacks to pop into my mind, but I drew a fucking blank. That was serious bullshit. “I’m starting to think that Gianna might always hate me. I thought it was her way to be interesting and a challenge, a sort of game at the end of which she’d come to her fucking senses and fall for me like all the girls I’ve pursued before her, but I’m pretty sure Gianna is a challenge I’m losing. She won’t come around. I think she hates this life a bit more every fucking day.”

Luca scanned my face. “This is really bothering you.”

He said it as if that was the biggest fucking surprise of his life, as if I was a fucking robot that wasn’t capable of emotions. “That coming from you,” I said with a smirk. “Before Aria I wasn’t even sure you were capable of liking anyone, least of all a woman.”

“You make it sound like I’m a fag. It’s not that I didn’t like women. They were just not something I considered useful outside of the bedroom.”

I shook my head. “How the hell did you get Aria to love you? It’s like the fucking eighth Wonder of the World. Are there any new drugs you’re not telling me about?”

“You’re wasted, Matteo.”

“I’m not. If you’d stop hogging the fucking whiskey, I might get the chance to be in a couple of hours.” I ripped the bottle from his hand and took a swig. “Gianna is like a tiger in the fucking zoo, caged in. It’s fucking depressing to watch her look for a way to escape captivity.”

“Did she try to run again?”

“How could she? I’m keeping her on a tight leash.”

“You’re not thinking about letting her go, are you?”

I didn’t think I could, and I didn’t want to. I was selfish and that wouldn’t change any time soon. I still wanted Gianna. I wanted her gorgeous body in my bed every night, and my cock in her tight pussy. I wanted everything from her, most of all the things she was refusing to give me. “Would you let me?”

“No. The Familia is already displeased as it is. You’d look even weaker if you’d let her run away again. I really don’t need the additional trouble. Not to mention the fucking Outfit would probably declare fucking war on us if we managed to lose Gianna again. Her father is being a real pain in the ass.” He gave me his Capo look, which was meant to intimidate the rest of the world, but was useless on me as he fucking well knew. “You won’t let her get away. You’re stuck with her until the bitter end, and she with you. I don’t care if she’s fucking unhappy and if she hates you, she’ll just have to deal.”

“Wow, you’re full of sunshine and rainbows today, aren’t you?” I knew he was right, and really it wasn’t like I’d tell Gianna she could go but somehow his words managed to piss me off anyway. “You realize the only thing stopping Gianna from slicing my throat at night is that she can’t see blood. Do you know how reassuring it is to fall asleep beside someone who’s probably fantasizing to see you dead so she can be free.” She’d never said it in so many words but sometimes I thought I saw it in her eyes. Or maybe I was so fucking messed up that I was always thinking the worst of others.

“I hope you’re joking,” Luca said dryly.

“Who knows?” I emptied the whiskey bottle. I could feel the first treacherous signs of a nice buzz. I grinned. “Sometimes she’d definitely trying to kill me with her eyes.”

“Maybe then you shouldn’t sleep in a room with her. She might get over her fear of blood at some point.”

“Nah. Not anytime soon. And she isn’t the violent type, not really.”

“I wouldn’t count on that. She can be really unhinged.”

“You weren’t worried about sleeping beside Aria when she still despised you so why should I?”

“You can’t compare Aria to Gianna. They are like two different species. And I trust Aria absolutely. She caught a fucking bullet for me.”

“Must be nice,” I muttered. “Gianna would probably applaud my shooter.”