What is wrong with me? Why do I sound like a pussy? I need to man the fuck up. I am Matteo Stone, not some weak ass emotional fucker. I know exactly the cure for what’s going on in my head. It doesn’t take long to have her off my lap. I turn her around and pull open the shirt she’s wearing. I force her to bend over the table and pull down my pants. Wrapping her hair around my fist, I pound into her.
Thrusting harder and harder, I listen to her sweet screams. I didn’t even give her time to get used to my size. This isn’t about making love to the woman I am going to marry. This is about me remembering I am Matteo Stone.
With each hard thrust into Isabella’s tight, wet pussy, I think of Sarah. I need a fix, and this is just the fix I need. I am in charge. I take what I want when I want it. I am about to be the king of the castle, and this woman is going to hand me the key.
Isabella
Matteo insists that we shop at the most expensive shops on Michigan Avenue. When Sarah left, there was something different about him. He was tense and not the same gentleman I spent the night with. I tried to get him to talk, but instead, he fucked me on the kitchen table. He was rough, and even though I liked it, it felt different. He made me feel like he was fucking a stranger. He was cold and barely looked at me afterward. He quickly pulled out of me and told me to get dressed. No eye contact, no kiss… Nothing.
Matteo has been on his cell for most of the day. He’s with me, but I feel like I’m alone. He waits outside the dressing room and just nods when I ask about each outfit. When I ask his opinions on what should I keep and what I should put away, he grabs everything.
“We will take it all,” he informs the cashier as he slams the clothing on the counter.
“I wish you wouldn’t have done that,” I whine.
He ignores me as he grabs me by one hand and the bags with his free hand. I am still pouting when he pulls me into Tiffany’s. We walk past the guard who nods at Matteo. I have never been inside a Tiffany’s, but the store even smells expensive. Maybe Matteo needs a new watch?
“What are we doing here?” I ask.
He ignores me as he walks up to the counter.
“How can we help you today, Mr. Stone?” the salesgirl asks.
How nice… they know him here.
“I would like to see your engagement rings.”
My eyes widen as I glance at Matteo. He stares at me with no emotion on his face. I must have misheard him.
“What are you doing, Matteo?”
He motions for the salesgirl to give us a few minutes. She doesn’t even hesitate.
“I want you to pick out a ring. I think we should get married.”
I laugh and glance at the waiting salesgirl. Is he kidding? “Married?” My eyebrows rise.
“Yes… married. I suppose you want a formal proposal?” He places the bags on the counter and drops to one knee. “How about it? Do you want to get married?”
“As romantic as that is… I think we need to discuss this more.”
“No, we don’t. I don’t have time for a long discussion. We need to pick out a ring and pick the date.”
Shaking my head, I can’t believe what I am hearing. The salesgirl returns, asking if we are ready to pick out the ring. Matteo nods, but I do what my head is telling me to do. I walk out.
“Isabella!” he yells.
I don’t look back. I can’t. My feet feel heavy as I walk away. My heart is screaming for me to stop. Isn’t this what I have always dreamed about? I weave between the Chicago walkers, hoping he doesn’t catch up to me. I can hear him calling me, but I keep going. I thought a man asking me to marry him would be the happiest day of my life. How could I have been so wrong? I realize I have never been in this situation before, but I assumed it would be romantic.
“Isabella! Stop walking, damn it!” he yells.
The parting crowd tells me that he is getting closer. Matteo grabs my arm. I try to snatch it away from him.
“Isabella,” he warns. As he holds me with one hand, he lifts his arm and a black Suburban with tinted windows pulls over. “Get in.”
I refuse until he pushes me inside and tells the driver to circle the block until he tells him to stop.
“We have nothing to say to each other.” I can’t believe he’s just forced me into his SUV and nobody said a thing. I still haven’t even had time to process his disaster of a proposal.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you like that.”
“You think?”
“I was wrong in my approach, but I do want to marry you.”
“I’m touched. I’ll have to decline,” I reply.
“Why?”
“We haven’t been dating that long. You have been acting sketchy all day, and the whole time-wasting comment didn’t win you any points.”
He doesn’t say anything. He just stares out the window.
“I don’t think this is going to work, Matteo. This doesn’t feel right.”
“Wait… I can’t let you end this.” His left eyebrow lifts a fraction.
“This?” I clamp my jaw tight and stare at him. Why is he acting so desperate? “I have had fun, Matteo, but I think I need to be alone to think about us.”
A muscle flickers angrily at his jaw. “I need you to listen to me before you decide. Please come home with me.”
“No.”
“Can we get coffee? Please talk to me,” he begs.
Despite my better judgment, I agree to coffee. I am such a sucker.
His dark eyes are like bits of stone. We sit across from each other in the cozy coffee shop, and I listen. There is a lethal calmness to his eyes as he talks about his dying father. The eyes that I lovingly stared into as we made love turn icy and unresponsive as he shares the clause that is in his father’s will. He must be married to inherit what he feels is rightfully his. I am the ticket to his fortune. It all makes sense now. Why didn’t I see this before? If it’s too good to be true, Isabella… it normally is.
I feel sick and ask the barista for a Medicine ball.
“I really need your help,” he whispers.
“I bet you do. You have been using me this whole time.” I feel sick and angry at the same time. He stiffens as if I’ve struck him.
“It’s not like that.”
We stare at each other across a sudden ringing silence.
“Yes, it is,” I whisper.
His glare burns through me as I stand.
“I don’t want to see you again, Matteo. “
My chest feels heavy as I turn my back to him. I think I can feel my heart breaking into pieces. It was hard to walk away the first time; I was giving myself time to think. This is the second time I am walking away, and there is nothing to think about. This time, it’s final. This is goodbye.
Matteo
There isn’t a damn thing I can do but sit and watch her walk away. I told her the truth, hoping for a little sympathetic understanding, and it didn’t turn out well. The look in her eyes when I spilled everything affected me. I don’t know why. Maybe she isn’t the right woman. She deserves better than what I am offering. Hell, she deserves better than me.
“We need to talk,” I growl into the phone.
Mixed feelings surge through me as I wait for Sarah to meet me at the coffee shop. Her ironic tone conceals the mixed emotions that I know she feels. She is angry that I blew things with Isabella, but she is happy that I won’t be spending time with her.
I stare at her, baffled when she smiles and reassures me that everything will work out as planned. What does this woman have up her sleeve? We go back to my place, and she spends the night. I lie on my back and play with her breasts as she rides me. The only problem is my mind is still not on Sarah.
The next morning, I can’t get out of bed fast enough. I get dressed before Sarah wakes. I need to visit with my father. There are several cars in the driveway, and I hear the arguing before I get into the house.
“What the fuck is going on?” I ask.
Paolo lo
oks relieved to see me. “Matteo, they want to see him.”
I got here just in time. “He’s not available.”
There are four of them, and I won’t be able to take them on alone. Paolo doesn’t believe in guns and would be of no help. I recognize the one in charge. He looks at the others, warning that he will only talk to Michael Stone. No one has heard from him in months, and they want answers. He threatens that if Michael Stone can’t run the business, he is more than willing to do so. I swallow hard, trying to manage a feeble answer.
“Don’t worry about the Stone family. When my father is unavailable, you will deal with me.”
The disgust is evident on his face. He doesn’t want to deal with me. I am not the Don; why should he listen? I would be acting the same if I was in his place. He shares that he has several shipments that need handling. I assure him they will be made as normal.
This isn’t good when we have people showing up at the house demanding to see my father. They are starting to get suspicious. When there is doubt, shit starts to backfire. People get sloppy and start plotting. I need to find a way out of this clause. He glances around the house and finally leaves. Paolo follows them out, and I go upstairs to see my father.
“Dad, you need to take out that damn clause. The Rossetti’s were just here. They are getting suspicious, and I will be working for them very soon if it’s not changed.”
He gives me a narrowed glinting glance.
“Isa… Isa…”
“Dad, Isabella is gone. We don’t have time for me to find some other girl to romance and marry. I need you to change the damn clause. Paolo can’t run the business.”
He closes his eyes and turns his head away from me. I guess this is the end of our discussion. After making sure that all shipments will go out as promised, I go back home.
Sarah is still there and has made herself very comfortable. She orders Chinese food and we eat it in bed.
She shares that she didn’t think Isabella was a good fit for me. I don’t reply because I think Isabella was the perfect fit. Shit. I found the perfect woman and I ran her off.
Three weeks have gone by, and I still can’t get her off my mind. I have been fulfilling all my family’s promises and working the business as my own. I still haven’t found a way out of the damn clause. Trust me… I have tried.
My father is getting weaker every day. He barely tries to talk now. When he does, it’s so slurred that I can’t understand him. Paolo has been working on some experimental drugs to test on him, but I have been fighting him on it. The last thing I want is my father to be used as a fucking Guinea pig.
Sarah has been hanging around more. She worries I am still thinking about Isabella, and she is right. I don’t understand why, but I miss her. I pick up my phone and want to call her. If I just hear her voice, I think, I can move on. It almost feels like I am a drug addict and need just one little hit. The only problem is my drug of choice is Isabella.
I consider going to the bank to open an account. She would be forced to sit across from me for five minutes. What is wrong with me? Closing my eyes, I start my new daily chant.
Matteo Stone is no pussy…
Matteo Stone is no pussy…
My eyes snap open when I hear my office door close. Sarah strolls into my office as if she owns it.
“Busy?” She is already inside so I doubt it would matter.
“What did you need?”
“I have good news and bad news,” she replies.
“What is it?”
“The bad news is that I can’t find anyone else suitable for you to marry. The good news is that I think Isabella may have a change of heart when it comes to helping us. Of course, things will be different this time.”
“What are you talking about, Sarah?” I ask.
She smiles as she walks behind my desk and crawls onto my lap. “What I’m talking about is she will need your help, but this time, she’ll know the rules.”
Isabella
I seethe with humiliation and anger as the box of my personal belongings are shoved into my arms. I was fired by the bank president and accused of stealing fifty-thousand dollars from the vault. He assures me that I can leave on my own and not in handcuffs, but if I don’t pay back the money in thirty days, the authorities will be called. How can they think I am a thief? I have worked here for years, and this is what they think of me?
I am hurt and embarrassed as my former co-workers and customers watch me being led to the door like a criminal. I sit in my car for almost an hour fighting back tears. When the first tear falls, I pull my phone out of my handbag to call my best friend.
“Hello?”
“Hey…” I sniff.
“What’s wrong?” Simone asks.
“I just got fired. They accused me of stealing fifty-thousand dollars,” I cry.
“Are you kidding me? What the hell?”
“They are giving me thirty days to pay it back.”
It wouldn’t matter if they gave me one year; I don’t have that kind of money.
“Shit… I have five thousand saved. You can have that if you need it. How about coming over to my place for dinner?”
I nod as if she can see me and hang up.
How many jobs will I need to pay back this money? How can they think I took this money? Thirty days or the authorities will be called. The threat keeps repeating in my mind. I am going to prison. My parents will have to visit their only daughter behind bars. I wonder if I’ll get used to being locked up.
When I finally pull into my parking lot, I slam my car door shut and rush to get inside. I just want to crawl into bed and forget this day happened. A soft gasp escapes me when I see Sarah waiting outside my door. My day is about to get worse. What the hell does she want?
“I have been waiting,” she says calmly.
Her greeting is contained. I can hear the disgust in her voice. Hopefully, she’ll see the same disgust on my face.
“How did you know I would be here?” I ask.
“I called the bank, and they said you were no longer employed there. I hear someone has sticky fingers.”
Is this bitch here to taunt me? “What do you want, Sarah?”
“I think we should talk.”
“I am not in the mood,” I tell her.
“Good… I want to talk and you can listen.” There is an edge to her voice.
She follows me inside and looks in disgust around my apartment.
“What do you want Sarah?” I repeat.
She takes one hand and wipes off my sofa, as if it’s dirty, before taking a seat.
“I want you to call Matteo and agree to marry him. You will stay married long enough for the official paperwork to be signed. Once the business is his, you can run along to your pathetic little life.”
I shake my head. There is a time and place for anything. She has picked the wrong girl at the wrong time. “I am not doing that, Sarah.”
“You will do this. If you don’t, you’ll go to prison for embezzling fifty-thousand dollars. Agree to marry him and we’ll pay the bank. The choice is yours. Prison or a marriage that will only help you?”
“What is it to you? I don’t think your brother needs help finding a different woman.”
“You are so stupid.” She laughs. “I am not his sister. I am the unacceptable girlfriend who can’t help him get what is rightfully his. You’ll marry him and sleep in your own damn bed. He is mine, and he always will be. You are simply a means to an end. What is it? Prison or a phony marriage?”
My heart is racing so hard, I think I might hyperventilate. I close my eyes to take a deep breath.
“How do you know how much money I was accused of taking? They never would have told you that.”
“You really aren’t very bright, are you?” She laughs.
Sarah and Matteo are behind the missing money. They are setting me up. If I don’t do what they want, just so Matteo can get his hands on his father’s business, I’ll go to prison. I thought it hurt w
hen I found out Matteo was using me, but knowing that they are behind this together hurts even more. I am being blackmailed into an unholy union.
My lower lip trembles as I return her cold glare. I am stuck between a rock and a hard place. I must choose between prison and marriage to a man who doesn’t love me. A man who is involved with the fucking devil wearing red lipstick and sitting on my sofa. I always thought I would marry a man who would love me unconditionally. I wanted a man who would move heaven and earth to make me happy. Don’t all women deserve this, including me?
Confused, I wander restlessly around the room. Sarah stares at me with her arms crossed, waiting for my answer. “I don’t have all day. Matteo is waiting at home for me, hopefully in bed… naked,” she reflects with some bitterness.
“Can you please leave? I need time to think about this.”
I feel like I am frozen in limbo where all decisions and actions are impossible. I need time to consider my options. I realize I don’t have many, but I need a few minutes to think.
“If I leave without your answer, there won’t be a deal. We’ll send you a Christmas card. I think they accept cards where you are going.”
Fear and anger knot inside me as the thought of this blackmail and prison tear at my insides. My stomach clenches tight as I give her my decision. Panic like I’ve never known before wells in my throat.
I am going to marry Matteo Stone. I am going to marry a man who is involved with another woman. I am going to marry a man who is using me to get his inheritance.
I am going to marry a man who I was falling in love with, who doesn’t love me. Sarah and Matteo are going to win.
I have agreed to this unholy union.
Matteo
I can’t believe Isabella agreed to marry me. I don’t know how Sarah pulled this off, but I am grateful that she has. I call Paolo to let him know that I have found a wife. I can take over the business the minute the marriage license is signed.
Unholy Union Page 5
