Scorned Heir: Chapter 29

After breakfast, we headed to the back of the building. The Jaguar was parked there. However, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go home with Matteo, but what alternative did I have? I avoided answering a text from Luca this morning because I might end up begging my uncle to come get me.

And then he would ask questions.

And then I’d have to come clean because my mind was too numb to plan what to tell him. One needed their wits about them when talking to Luca. He could smell bullshit over the phone. Besides, I couldn’t guarantee what my uncle would do to Matteo. I promised myself I’d keep my relationship issues from my uncle after what had happened to my college boyfriend.

“Are you sure you should drive?”

“I did yesterday.”

“Did you sleep well?” He had circles under his eyes, and unlike yesterday when he was hundred percent, today I wasn’t oblivious that he had a lot of things on his mind.

Stopping at the passenger side, Matteo put a hand on where the roof of the car met the door. He leaned forward. “What do you think? And don’t feel sympathy for me just because I’m worse for wear.”

“It’s a natural concern.”

“I want you to come home so we can work on our problems.”

I looked at his throat, unwilling to meet his eyes. I didn’t want to be swayed by the brilliant blue turbulence and drown in them. I needed to remain steadfast.

When I didn’t respond, he opened the door for me and let me in. The car smelled of lemon and leather.

When he got behind the steering wheel, I said, “Did you just wax the car?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

The Jaguar’s engine roared to life.

“You’re overdoing things.”

“Stop fussing.”

“What’s wrong with you?” I snapped. “You used to eat it up when I fussed over you.”

“I don’t want your pity, okay? Your tendency to save someone.”

I made a sarcastic sound. “This is not me saving someone. I’m still married to you.”

He reversed the sports car and peeled away from the alley. “Are you saying we’ll be staying married?”

“It will be a marriage of convenience.” No way was I trusting my feelings again.

He cursed under his breath.

“I don’t want that. I was wrong to keep it from you, Sera, but I didn’t want to ruin what we’re building.”

“Why didn’t you admit it before you wanted it to become real?”

“You would have been pissed at me or wouldn’t have given me a chance.”

He was probably right, but still.

“You don’t have a choice in this matter. If you want me to stay married to you we won’t be as we were before.”

“What exactly will change?”

“Besides no intimacy?”

He jerked his head my way, just when I spied a bike messenger hurtling across the intersection. “Watch out!”

He hit the brakes hard and groaned. I slammed my hands on the dashboard. “Oh my God.” I turned to face him.

Matteo was pale under his tan.

“Are you all right?”

“In a minute,” he gritted, but adjusted the seat belt.

“Maybe we should go to the hospital.”

“I’m fine.”

“Matteo.”

“I’m. Fine,” he enunciated. “I want to take you home.”

Someone rapped on the window.

Matteo cursed again but lowered the driver’s side window.

“You okay, boss?” Trevor asked.

“Yes.”

“You want me to drive?”

“No.”

Something on Matteo’s face made the other man back off.

My husband looked in the rearview mirror. “Not a word to my brothers. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Trevor nodded and walked away.

“I hardly think they’ll make fun of your injury. What if you re-lacerated your liver?”

“I doubt it. It’s protected by muscle.”

“You probably atrophied by now.”

“Sera,” he growled. “Let’s talk at home, okay?”

I didn’t want to argue with him anymore. His condition was frustrating the hell out of him. Because, like him, I was sure he didn’t want me faking my real feelings about the situation.

We arrived at the house with not much fanfare. We didn’t talk in the vehicle. My husband did what he did best and brooded. He’d curse occasionally at traffic. I was sure he was trying his best to concentrate on driving to prove he was okay.

I was tempted to ask if he was hurting, but I bit my tongue. Now was not the time to coddle him. He didn’t park in the garage but in front of the mansion.

Side by side, we walked silently. Past the grand entryway and up the sweeping staircase, turning in the direction of the west wing rooms.

Matteo was doing better. He didn’t need any help putting on clothes. He hardly winced anymore when he bent at the waist.

Upon entering our room, I headed directly to the closet and pulled out one of the suitcases.

“What are you doing?” he finally spoke.

I swung the suitcase on the bed and unzipped it, flinging the top open, and then walked to the dresser. “Moving to the next bedroom.”

“My wife sleeps with me.”

With an armful of lounge clothes and pajamas, I said, “No, I’m not.”

He rubbed a brow before gesturing to me. “Baby, don’t do this. How are we going to fix—”

“I can’t even look that far.” I dumped the clothes into the luggage and faced him. “Give me a chance to absorb what happened, okay? We can’t fix this if I can’t sort out what’s real and what’s not.”

He took a step toward me and grabbed my elbows, hauling me to him. “How can you say these past few weeks were not real? I have a hole through me to prove it.”

“Don’t,” I begged, trying to stay strong. “You don’t want to use your injury as a reason for me to stay.”

“No,” he said grimly. “I don’t want that. But what I’m saying is, everything that we went through, you being there for me, that’s real.”

“I know. For me it was.” I crossed my arms and brought them down to break his hold. “But that was built on something that wasn’t.”

“Sera…”

“Answer me this…” It had been nagging at my mind and I was afraid to ask for the answer, but my instinct was telling me to get it out of the way. “When did you find out Gustavo was giving me the remaining shares?”

“Baby…”

“When?”

He couldn’t look at me. “Nico told me on our way back from Maine.”

I expected it, but a distressed whimper escaped my mouth. “Before you asked me to marry you at the vineyard?” I exhaled heavily to strengthen my resolve. I’d cried enough. “Matteo, I’m asking you now. If there’s any chance of saving us…please give me space.”

“I can’t let you leave the house.”

“I know,” I said. “If it wasn’t for the Santino threat, I could have moved back to the Brooklyn home.”

Matteo’s mouth flattened as he contemplated my words.

“Be thankful I haven’t told Luca.”

“This is between you and me. Enough people know about this bullshit.”

That pissed me off. “A bullshit you and Daniel perpetuated.”

“I was wrong. I should have told you before we got married.” He blew out a breath. “Can we move on from that? Just…” He took a step toward me, but I recoiled. He scowled, his hands gesturing helplessly. “Just…tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“That’s the thing, Matteo.” I turned away from him because I couldn’t stand the desperation on his face. He probably didn’t even know that was how he looked. If there was something I knew about my husband, he didn’t want to look vulnerable. I’d witnessed it enough since he’d been shot. That was why this was so difficult for me. I empathized with his situation but when was enough, enough?

Our time in Maine was the most romantic of my lifetime. The cliffside declaration, telling him about my parents. But come to think of it, that was more about courtship. I shared so much about myself and he didn’t. He had several opportunities to come clean about Daniel and Gustavo’s shares, but he didn’t. If he had just done so before he married me, maybe I would have been more forgiving.

We said vows to each other.

Would that be grounds for an annulment? Married under false pretenses? I escaped to the closet where I could lean against the inner wall, suddenly lightheaded. Did I want to sever my relationship to Matteo forever?

Anxiety sent my heart racing.

Too much.

Too much to process.

Too much to absorb.

I pretended to gather my clothes, taking that time to calm down, and took a deep breath before I exited the closet.

Matteo was sitting at the edge of the bed, glaring at the contents of my suitcase.

“You’re just moving to the next room,” he said. “Why can’t you just come in here and get your stuff when you need it?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “There might be times I don’t want to see you at all.”

“I don’t like sleeping without you.”

I squared my shoulders. “You’ll get used to it.”

His scowl deepened. “What are you saying? That this will be permanent?”

“I don’t know.” I wanted to stomp my feet. “Just…just back off, okay?”

Something in my face must have told him he was pushing me to the edge of my limit.

He stood and walked to the door. “I’ll be in the study. I’m not about to help you move out of our room.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to.”

His face became a blank mask. He nodded, opened the door, and walked out.

“Are you sure you’re ready to go to the office?”

“I’m fine.” Matteo didn’t look at me. He didn’t smile. He insisted on driving me to Hell’s Kitchen before he headed to De Lucci Transnational. I could have caught a ride with his mom, but he said Mrs. De Lucci had plans with his dad. Matteo didn’t look too good at breakfast this morning. He wasn’t pale, but the circles around his eyes were deeper, and I was starting to feel guilty. How could he make a full recovery if he wasn’t sleeping enough?

I didn’t have a very restful sleep either, but I wasn’t about to admit that I didn’t like sleeping without him. I would get used to it. I must.

My heart ached at the thought that I was fully in a marriage of convenience. I shouldn’t care too much about my husband’s well-being, but I couldn’t help it. Did that make me gullible and a doormat?

I needed to talk to Ivy. She was meeting me at Jabbin’ Java. Maybe Liz could weigh in too, but somehow I felt there was a world of difference between Matteo and Renz and could offer nothing. I still didn’t know what went on between the brothers. Something obviously did. I asked Matteo about it one time, but he shut down.

“I can hear you thinking,” he said.

“Do you want to know what’s on my mind?” I challenged.

He cursed beneath his breath. “Of course I do.”

I turned to face him, leaning against the door. “I was thinking how I’ve told you so much about myself, and yet I know so little about you.”

He frowned. “I’ve been open about my family.”

“Not what happened between you and Renz, which still seems to affect your relationship.”

He stared straight ahead, not answering.

I gave him a few seconds, then I faced forward. “Figures.”

“What happened between me and Renz,” he finally said. “Wasn’t my proudest moment.”

“We learn from our mistakes, Matteo.”

He exhaled a deep breath. “What mistake? That I should be looking out for my brother? That I think he’s throwing away his future when he has the opportunity to go to college.”

“College isn’t everything.”

“You’re one to talk, Miss Magna Cum Laude.”

“I’m not talking about me. It’s something I wanted to pursue,” I said. “Your brother looks happy.”

“He does.”

“Matteo…”

“Ask me something else.”

“Okay. Why is it so important for you to go to the office? You’ve proven you can work from home.”

“Mrs. Mancini wants a face-to-face. I don’t want her stepping foot in the mansion.”

“That’s the winery, right?”

He glanced at me then. “How do you know about the winery?”

“The night of the dinner party…before Dom dropped the news that Santino has taken over the Galluzo.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“You told me not to worry about it.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“You sounded condescending.”

We were at a stoplight. This time he cast me a longish stare full of bewilderment. “How?”

“First of all, you closed the lid on your laptop. And second, you told me not to worry my pretty little head.”

“Baby, I didn’t mean to sound condescending at all. You’ve given so much of yourself taking care of me. I didn’t want you busying yourself with all the business bullshit.”

“Business bullshit when you yourself said that I was Miss Magna Cum Laude,” I said. “Why would I kill myself going through grad school and getting those grades if I didn’t intend to do anything with them? I’m not asking you for a job, but at least don’t put me in a box as a wife who simply takes care of your needs. Can’t I inquire about your day or the work you do when you know full well I have the background to understand it?”

The light turned green and the Jaguar crawled forward. “Sera—”

“And in case you’ve forgotten, I did my thesis on—”

“The modernization of olive oil production,” he sighed. “Baby…” His voice was full of apology. “I’m so sorry. And I’m not saying that to score points in winning you back. I’m thanking you for calling me on my bullshit. That’s what I want you to do.”

What do I say to that? I couldn’t help thinking he was conceding my point to win points with me, but then again, I could tell when my husband was sincere.

I nodded my answer.

His right hand was on the gear. Usually, our fingers would be intertwined and he’d use his hand on the wheel for shifting gears. I ached for that part of us.

Soon, the Jaguar arrived in the back of the building.

“I’ll pick you up before three,” he said.

“You’re not working a full day?”

“I don’t have to.”

“And if I have plans?”

He frowned. “With whom?”

“With Ivy.”

He didn’t look happy. “I don’t want you to be around Daniel.”

I rolled my eyes. “That ship has sailed.”

“It’s not even that. I don’t trust him not to mess with your head.”

“I’m not trusting anything out of his mouth either, so no worries there.” I pushed my door open.

I heard his door open too before he called, “Sera.”

I turned.

“About Renz. I need to talk to him first, all right?”

It did not occur to me that it might be a situation where Matteo wasn’t free to talk about it to protect his brother’s privacy.

“Oh my God.” I put a hand to my mouth. “I didn’t mean…” I took a step toward him. “If you can’t…oh, Matteo…” I ended up saying lamely.

His eyes softened. “It’s not that, baby. There are some things that my brother and I ignored for so long…things that we both lived with without fixing, until someone else asked us about it.”

I huffed a laugh. “Someone as nosy as me.”

“It’s warranted. You’re my wife.”

I didn’t say yay or nay, but gave him a small smile and wave before I punched in the code to get inside the building.