Chapter 32
MATTEO
I know, I always find a way to fuck things up.
But itâs not that I love messing things up, itâs just my fears. I allow fear rule me and ruin things for me.
Itâs just out of my control.
Earlier today, I had returned home a bit early and decided to go straight into my wifeâs room. But on getting inside the room, I heard whimpering coming from the washroom and when I listened in properly, I discovered that Mirabella was crying
It broke my heart but I didnât have it in me to walk into that washroom and ask her what her reason for crying was.
with it.
You see, Iâm not so good with all these emotions and all the baggages that comes with it.
Iâd left the room because I thought it wise to give her
er some privacy just in case she wouldnât want me to see her in her time of weakness.
I gave it a few more hours until it was the early hours of the night before walking back into our room. But she was still in the washroom and it concerned me how long sheâd been crying for.
âHow do I tell him about my feelings?â She had asked herself and that was when my fear creeped in.
I know I have feelings for Mirabella, feelings that are beyond physical attraction but when I heard her admit to having feelings for me, ittore
me into pieces.
I donât want her to love me.
It never ends well for those who show any genuine affection towards me and Iâm scared Mirabella wouldnât be an exception if we acted upon our feelings.
When sheâd walked out of the washroom and locked eyes with me, I knew then that Iâd never forgive myself if i hurt her and that was how I fucked up a night that shouldâve turned out great.
Without listening to what she had to say, I began blabbing tons of bullshit. Calling her a thing for my pleasure, my whore for the taking, a place to ease some stress.
How fucked up do I have to be to speak those despicable things to my own wife?
Really fucked up.
Of course she lost it on me and demanded that I left her room but I was adamant, causing her to leave instead. So here I am, running my hands through my hair roughly, groaning my frustration as I ponder my next move.
2 52 2 E *
About an hour and a few minutes later and she hasnât returned. âFuck it. Fuck this,â I grunt as I grab a blanket and her sweater. I rush out of my room and head downstairs to look for her as it worries me that she might catch a cold if she stays out too long in that tank top and leggings she has on,
I walk past my office and I hear faint screaming. I hurriedly push my office door open and run up to the window that exposes a clearer view of the garden. After minutes of observing the garden and finding nothing, I click my tongue and walk back out, heading downstairs.
âFather?â I call out in surprise when I find my father making a dish in the kitchen and he hums as he flashes me with a smile. âYou seem awfully happy.â I quirk my brow at him and he let out a chuckle.
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âDoes it pain you to see me happy?â Here we go again with the back and forth.
âIsnât that the dish you often made for mother when she was pregnant with Julia? What the fuck Ernesto Denaro, did you get my mother pregnant again? Are you trying to kill her?â I contort my face in displeasure and father smacks the back of my head with a frustrated grunt.
âThis is not for your mother. Itâs for Mirabella.â My pupils dilate.
âWhat? Mirabella is pregnant?â
âIf Mirabella were to be pregnant, wouldnât it be weird that Iâd be the first to know?â Father raises his eyebrows as he waits for my answer. An answer Iâm unwilling to give. âI thought so. She was in a bad mood when I saw her and I decided to make this for her. I wonder what you did
to her.â
I clear my throat. âDid she say anything?â
âShe doesnât have to say it for me to know that youâre an unbearable bastard.â
âWhere is she?â I ask, wanting to change the subject of discussion. âSheâs out in the garden.â
âWhat? Are you insane? You left her out there? Alone?â I grit through my teeth and fatherâs eyes narrow into slits.
âCalm your nerves boy, sheâs safe. I had asked her to sit still where I left her and as long as sheâs there, nothing will happen.â Father retorts reluctantly.
I groan in frustration, âand you think sheâd obey you?â
âShe doesnât strike me as a
me as a rebellious person.â
I chuckle at his obvious stupidity. âItâs not about being rebellious father, itâs just normal that people do the one thing theyâre forbidden from.â I growl and father let out a small âoâ as he nods his head in agreement.
âWell Iâm going back out right about now, so thereâs no need to worry.â He looks at me up and down with a knowing look, âyou seem to care so much for her, do you love her?â
âIâm incapable of loving father.â I hiss.
âYouâre capable of loving but you do not want to love neither do you want to be loved.â He retorts.
âYouâre right, I do not want to love and I do not want to be loved. You saw where that stupid word got me.â
Exactly where did it get you?â Fatherâs voice is irritated at this point.
âI canât believe you just asked this question! You know exactly what Iâm talking about.â I growl in his face.
âIt was a long time ago Matteo! I was there and I saw it all happen! You should move on from it and stop punishing yourself.â His voice laced
bottom lip. with pity and that riles me up. I chuckle dryly as I swipe my tongue across my
âHow could I forget about something like that? Why would you demand that I forget when we both know that it still lives fresh in your memory? Isnât that why you sit in that garden every night to sulk? Because you couldnât protect your own? Because you were far too weak and you watched as your world crumbled around you? Tell me Ernestolâ Fatherâs palm comes down hard on the side of my face, causing my
head to fall to the side.
His breathing is heavy and unsteady, his eyes brimmed with tears and his fists clenched so tight that his knuckles pale. âI had absolutely no choice! You and I both know this.â He stops himself from speaking any further and grabs the food tray, turning on his heel and heading for the
exit.
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âFather,â I breathe out and he turns around to lock eyes with nie. âI know, Iâm sorry.â He offers me a tight nod and I do the same as I stalk over to him, wrapping Mirabellaâs sweater around his neck and instructing him to make sure she wears it and stay warm.
âThat was intense,â Pablo walks in with my dogsâArt and Mekhiâtwo of my beastly animals. A bloodhound and a Doberman Pinscher. Both dogs were carefully and perfectly trained as search, guard and rescue dogs. And theyâve never disappointed me which is why I love them more than I do my other dogs.
âWhy would you say those things to your father? You know he already blames himself for what happened.â Pabloâs thick volce reverberates in my spine and I clear my throat.
Pablo is one person that keeps me on my toes. Heâs a friend and a brother but he commands fear and respect from me without even trying
et my beasts.
âHeat of the moment man, you know how it is.â I answer in a clipped tone of voice as I crouch down to pet my
Pablo and I sit by the bar in the living room as we continuously chug down glass after glass of scotch, and as Pabloâs lips part as though he wants to speak, we both startle at the sound of gunshots going off.
The first thought that comes to mind? Mirabella.
âMekhil Art!â They both run up to me barking and ready to go. I grab the blanket and have Art sniff it. âGol Search and guard!â I command and they both bolt out of the door with I and Pablo running behind them.
âWhere are the boys?â Lask Pablo.
âTheyâre getting ammunition.â
In a matter of seconds, all my men are flooding behind and in front of me as we run frantically into the garden, spreading out and following through the direction where the dogs are barking from.
1 halt my
movement and breath is immediately knocked out of my lungs when my eyes meet with the ground where my bloodhound is sniffing; except itâs not the ground, itâs my wife, my Mirabella, laying in the pool of her own blood.
My blood runs cold and my eyes redden, âMirabella,â I murmur and a muscle feathers in my jaw. I will my legs to move but theyâre unheeding.
âNo,â I whisper.
âJesusâ¦no,â a loud gasp tears out of my throat when a hand firmly grips my shoulder, âget a grip Matteo.â I look to my side and itâs Pablo but heâs not looking at me, neither is he facing forward.
His back is to where Mirabella is laying and I furrow my brows in confusion. My eyes moveâin slow motion from Pablo to Mirbella and only then did I realize what was done to her.
I tremble and my mouth drops open
âDonât fucking look at her! Turn around all of you! Nobody will look at herâ I fall on my knees by her side and begin wrapping her up with the
blanket.
ok at my wife.â I out cry as I rest my forehead on her. âMirabella, princessâ¦who did this?â My body vibrates as a sob wracks
âPlease donât look at my
through me.
âGet the car!â I scream as I pick Mirabella up bridal style, running out of the garden at full speed. By the time we get to the car, Pablo comes forward and stops me from going in. âI just heard, there seems to be some sort of commotion on the road, and it has caused heavy traffic.â
âFuck!â I scream, âwell then what are you waiting for? Get the chopper And Pablo?â He hums, âlight up that road. Make sure no one escapes since they chose today of all days to be stupid. Pablo nods his answer.
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I turn around to face Alessio, âtake care of all the guards present today. You know what I mean.â He nods and the chopper takes off I put a call across to the doctor to have him know that thereâs an emergency and Iâd need a stretcher on the rooftop where the chopper will land.
Iâve been waiting in front of the theater room for about ten hours but the doctor wouldnât come out still. The nurses that keep running in and out of there wouldnât say anything to me either and Iâm starting to lose my mind.
Pablo and Alessio are here with me to help keep me calm and mentally stable while Maxwell and Dean are out there hunting for the fucker who put hands on my wife.
âMatteo,â the doctor calls my name as he walks out of the emergency room. The forced smile plastered across his face doesnât go unnoticed.
âYes?â My voice cracks, âhowâs she?â
âI would appreciate it if we talked privately,â the doctor affirms
âHow is my wife!â I scream in fear.
The doctor takes a few steps back, creating some sort of distance between us. âYou need to calm down Don.â
Did he just address me as Don?
He never addresses me officially except itâs a serious matter.
I inhale a sharp breath through my nose and exhale through my mouth in attempt to calm myself âWhere is my wife?â My voice comes out
calm and cold
The doctorâs head hangs low and he interlocks his fingers as he heaves out a shuddering sigh, âSheâsâ¦sheâ¦â
âShe what?â
âIâm sorry.â
æ²