“I really don’t have an appetite,” she whispers.
I move between her and the television, so I can have her full attention. “We need to talk, Isabella.”
She rolls her eyes.
“I know this isn’t the best situation in the world, but I think we can make the best out of it.”
She lets out a long, audible breath.
“You didn’t always hate me. I think you enjoyed my company,” I add.
“I don’t think I ever knew you, Matteo. You pretended to be someone so I would like you, marry you, and you would get your damn inheritance. The Matteo that I once cared about wouldn’t have strung me along while he fucked another woman, he claimed to be his sister. The Matteo that I thought I knew wouldn’t have had that woman set me up for taking money from the bank I work at.” Her voice hardens.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know damn well what I am talking about.” Her voice rises an octave.
“No, I don’t know anything about money from the bank.”
“Your girlfriend somehow managed to make it look like I stole money from the bank vault. I have until the end of the month to pay it back or I will go to jail. She promised, if I marry you, she’ll pay it back.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry, Isabella. I didn’t know.”
I put my hands over my face and start to pace. I had no idea what Sarah had done to get Isabella to go along with this. Does it matter what she did, as long as you get your way? My small conscience screams at me. Hell, if I know the answer. This is one of those times you have to wonder how far you’ll go to get what you want. The sad thing is, I want to take over for my father, and I’ll do whatever it takes.
“I guess this all works out for you,” she says coldly.
She turns off the television, walks into her bedroom, and closes the door. One hour later, we head to my father’s attorney. He sits across from us and watches as I place my hand on Isabella’s. This must look real. I just hope he doesn’t notice her tense when I touch her. He reviews the license and pulls out the will.
“Have you seen your father today?” he asks.
“That will be our next stop,” I reply.
He looks at me over the rim of his reading glasses. “I have something for you while I go over the clause.”
I open the envelope and find two tickets to Italy. Isabella’s eyes lift.
“Why are you giving me these?” I ask.
“It’s a wedding gift. Can you imagine how your father would love to hear about grandchildren? Consider it your official honeymoon.” His lips part to display straight, white teeth. I would love to knock a few of those perfect teeth out and put them in a glass as a souvenir.
“It looks like everything is all set,” he says cheerfully.
I watch and feel relief when he closes the folder. “Perfect. When will everything be signed over to me?” I ask.
“Everything will be transferred to you in exactly nine months,” he advises.
I feel my blood pressure suddenly spike as the room starts to spin. “What do you mean, nine months?”
Pleasure suddenly softens his granite-like face. He is enjoying every minute of this. “Your father is suspicious of you, Matteo. He thought that if he added this marriage clause, you would just go find some poor girl to marry with the intention of only keeping her around for the inheritance. He wanted to make sure the marriage is real. He added that you will receive everything once you hit nine months of marriage.”
Isabella starts to fan herself with the envelope. I bend over to place my hands on my knees. I am going to pass out. Why would my father think I would do such a thing? Why doesn’t he trust me? The man thinks I would marry someone just to get the business? Michael Stone is a lot smarter than I gave him credit for. He’s outplayed me. You can never beat the master at his own game.
I am fucked.
Isabella
My mind keeps replaying the same words.
Nine months… Nine months… Nine months…
I wait for Matteo to faint when the color drains from his face. I think I come close to fainting myself. Michael Stone had added another clause. He knew his son would do exactly what he has done. He found a poor girl to marry for the sole purpose of taking over the family business.
He is so angry I can hear him breathing as he drives recklessly down a busy Michigan Ave. He will expect me to stay married for nine months. I’ll be his prisoner. My eyes snap open when I hear my cell ringing from my handbag. Reaching over, I notice it’s a call from my best friend, Simone.
“How in the hell do you get married without telling me?” she yells.
“What?” I ask.
“You heard me the first time! I just saw the news, Isabella!”
Fuck. I forgot that this phony marriage is big news. The playboy millionaire has taken a wife.
“Shit… I have to call my parents,” I tell her.
“Call your parents? They already know, Isabella. Your mother called me ten minutes ago crying.”
“I’ll call you back.”
I don’t know what I will say to her.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” Matteo asks.
“My parents just found out I am married. Well, my parents and everyone else I care about.”
I lean against the headrest. Why do I feel like I am in the worst dream I have ever had?
“What’s their address? We can go talk to them.”
“We can go talk to them? I don’t want you anywhere near my parents,” I seethe.
“Isabella, we’re going to be married for the next nine months. Do you honestly think your parents will not want to meet their daughter’s husband?”
Despite my better judgment, I give Matteo the address. He is right; they will want to meet him. What reason can I give them not to? My mother opens the door, and she is still crying. Matteo is a massive, self-confident presence with my parents. He apologizes that he wasn’t introduced before. My father questions what kind of man doesn’t ask for permission before marriage? Matteo calmly explains that he made a mistake by not talking to my father first. He practically begs them for forgiveness.
My parents start to thaw and appear to buy the bullshit Matteo is dishing out. I can’t deny he is a professional bullshitter. It is how I ended up in this situation. One damn lunch…
“I made lunch. How about you join us? We can get to know each other,” Mom suggests.
Matteo smiles, and we sit next to each other while my father questions him. I am disgusted but can’t help noticing the tantalizing smell of his aftershave. Watching as he hypnotizes my parents, I remember how attractive I find Matteo. Of course, I had forgotten since I was blinded by hate and disgust. He has the most beautiful dark eyes that almost look black. The shadow of his beard gives him an even more masculine aura. His lips are firm and sensual. His profile is sharp and confident. He holds his head high with pride as he talks with my parents. There are touches of humor around his mouth and near his eyes.
He talks like such a wonderful man.
If only they knew…
How can this be the same man that is forcing me into marriage? He lifts his arms to explain something to my father. The muscles rippling under his white shirt quicken my pulse.
Get a grip, Isabella. This is the same man you hated two hours ago.
“How about it, baby?” he asks.
“I’m sorry… What?”
I didn’t hear a word of what he said. I was too busy checking out my phony husband. I almost think he realizes what I have been doing when his eyes darken and he smirks.
“I was telling your parents that we have to get going, but I think they should come over for dinner tomorrow night.”
“That sounds… nice.”
I don’t think it’s a good idea to invite my parents over. What the hell is wrong with him? I should have been listening. I’ll have to un-invite them. My parents watch as Matteo opens the car door for me. He waves at them as h
e walks around to get inside. When we are back on the road, I start to grill him over why he would invite my parents over.
“We’re going to be married for nine months,” he reminds me.
“Are you really going to hold me to that?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I suppose I didn’t expect anything less from him. There is a car in the driveway when we get to Matteo’s house. He isn’t happy about whoever is here to visit. He warns me to not say anything to them and go directly into the house.
“Don’t make eye contact with them,” Matteo warns.
Unfortunately, one of the men blocks me before I reach the door. “I hear congratulations are in order.”
He gives me a kiss on both cheeks, and Matteo puts his hands on my waist, pulling me away from him. The man nods and smiles at me. His blue eyes move over me and meet mine. He is very attractive. He stands as if he prides himself on his good looks. His massive shoulders fill the coat he’s wearing.
He chuckles and narrows his eyes at Matteo. “A little possessive, are we?” he teases.
“What are you doing here, Nikoli?” I can hear the anger in Matteo’s voice. This obviously isn’t a friend.
“We came to meet the new Mrs. Stone. She is absolutely beautiful.”
Nikoli reminds me of how Matteo used to be. I remember him fondly… He was charming and kind. Perhaps he is still like this, but I can’t see it from the hate I feel.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
I feel Matteo stiffen and turn to look at him. “You need to go into the house, Isabella,” he growls.
Nikoli nods toward the other man and glances back at me. “I understand if you don’t want company. We’ll leave now.”
Matteo narrows his eyes as we watch them leave.
Nikoli glances back at me before getting into his car. He gives me another nod and smiles.
“Fucking bastard,” Matteo snarls. Matteo slams the door and starts to pace the minute we are inside.
“He seems nice,” I tell him.
“He isn’t. He wants what is mine, but he isn’t going to get it.”
“You mean your family business?” I ask.
He answers with an impersonal nod.
“What exactly is the family business?”
Matteo walks over to his corner bar and pours a brown liquid. “We own twenty-seven restaurants and night clubs in Chicago and New York.”
“Wow.”
“Nikoli would like nothing more than to find out my father is out of commission and take over.”
“I don’t think that is the way it works. If your father owns it, I’m sure he would put something in writing advising who would take it over.”
“Maybe in your world. In our world, it doesn’t work that way. Several families own the businesses together. My father is in charge now, but if they smell weakness… Shit. I don’t even want to think about this. Are you going to be okay if I go out?”
“Am I not allowed to leave?” I ask. What the hell is this, house arrest?
“It would be best if you didn’t. Your bodyguard doesn’t start until tomorrow,” he answers with a stern look.
“My bodyguard?”
“Yes. It’s a requirement of being Mrs. Matteo Stone. Will you stay in the house if I leave?”
“If I don’t have any other options, I guess I have to.”
Matteo closes his eyes for a few seconds before he finishes his drink. It’s almost as if he is debating whether to trust me to stay. I watch as he pulls out of the driveway. Most of my evening is spent watching television. I eat popcorn for dinner and watch more television. I fall asleep wondering if this is what my married life will be like?
Matteo
I lie in the drowsy warmth of her bed. I am cheating on my wife. I know the reason why I got married, but she is still my wife. I didn’t plan on driving directly to Sarah, but I feel a pull to this woman. She is comfortable and familiar. Sarah is safe for me. In my world, I need stability. She knows almost every secret and understands each of them. Don’t get me wrong, there will always be a few things I have to take with me to the grave.
Isabella asked about the family business. I knew, eventually, she would. It’s the reason we have to be careful who we get involved with in this business. It’s also the reason I don’t just screw around with any woman. They all start to ask too many questions. What kind of monster would I be if I had to cut out the tongue of some woman I screwed?
I told her that we own twenty-seven restaurants and night clubs in Chicago and New York, but I didn’t tell her the entire truth. How would she react? What would she have said if I told her that we launder money from loan sharks? She can never know about the drugs and extortion through these companies. She would only become a major liability. There is only one ending for liabilities in my world.
She can’t testify against me while we’re married, but our marriage will only last nine months. I can only imagine what the law would offer her to talk. They probably wouldn’t have to offer much, considering she hates me. I don’t even want to think about what I’ll have to do to her when she does squeal.
Sarah turns to her side and places her arm across my chest.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks.
I know better than to give her the real answer, so I tell her the next best thing. “Nikoli.”
“What about him?”
“He came to my house earlier today. He said he wanted to meet Isabella.”
“Really… Interesting.” She smirks.
“It is.”
“What do you think he wants? He isn’t the welcome committee for organized crime,” she replies.
“Honestly, I think he’s looking for a weakness.”
“Well, hopefully, she’ll last long enough for you to be put in charge.”
“Shit… there is something else I need to tell you.” I sigh.
I watch the color slowly drain from her face as I share the news. It takes one hour to calm Sarah down once I explain the nine-month surprise. We have sex again, and I drift off to sleep. My plan was to spend a little time with Sarah to work off the edge. I didn’t plan on staying all night.
My bladder wakes me, and I realize that my plan has failed… miserably.
Fuck. I spent the night.
I grab my pants off the floor and quickly get dressed then sneak out without waking Sarah. She would be pissed to know I am rushing home to my wife. It feels like I am following the sunrise on my way home. I am amazed at how beautiful it is this time of the morning. There is beauty in this world, even if it’s not in mine.
Why am I sneaking into my own house? I quietly close the door and glance toward her bedroom. I don’t want to wake Isabella. Tossing my jacket on the sofa, I notice that the kitchen light is on. I pull out my gun and slowly walk toward the kitchen door and peek inside. Isabella is sitting at the table having a cup of coffee. Shit. Maybe she didn’t notice I was gone all night. I tuck my gun away, and her eyes lift when she sees me.
“Good Morning.”
“Morning.” She speaks in a broken whisper.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“Everything is just perfect,” she mutters hastily.
While pouring myself a cup of coffee, I can feel her eyes burning a hole in the back of my head. She looks away when I sit across from her at the table. Staring into her cup, she refuses to look at me.
“What did you do after I left? I forgot to tell you I have Netflix.”
“How is Sarah?” she asks.
Shit. She noticed I was out all night. I also catch the note of sarcasm in her voice.
“She is good.”
“Perfect,” she says in a nasty tone.
“Isabella, you do realize that this is a business arrangement? I never said that I am going to live like a monk for nine months. I doubt you’re open to sex.”
“You’re right. I hope you understand that I expect to have the same terms.” She boldly meets my eyes.
“What
do you mean, the same terms?”
She lifts her chin, meeting my icy gaze straight on. “This is a business arrangement. I don’t plan on living like a monk either. If you are going to date, I will be dating, too.”
“You want to date?” I rip the words out impatiently.
“I do.”
My heart rate goes from normal to instant heart attack stage. Breathe… Breathe... Remember to fucking breathe. I find myself clenching my teeth as I stare at her. She is married to me and wants to go out and fuck other men? She promised to forsake all others and she wants to date? I feel myself stiffen as if she has struck me. It was a sucker punch to the stomach. When this woman comes out swinging, she hits below the belt.
“Who exactly did you have in mind?” I ask. Just give me the damn name, and my eyes will be the last he sees. I will make sure he disappears before you get to the damn restaurant. He will suffer. He will wish he had never said one word to Isabella Stone. I know exactly where I’ll bury his body.
“I am not sure of his name. It’s a double date,” she replies.
“A double date?” She doesn’t even have someone special in mind? She is open to fucking anyone that isn’t me.
“Yes… with my best friend and her boyfriend.”
I try to disguise my annoyance. Who am I kidding? I am not annoyed, I am angry. “When exactly is this date?”
“I don’t think that is any of your business,” she states calmly.
“You don’t? You are my wife.”
“This is a business arrangement. Nine months is a long time to go without fucking. I guess we basically have an open marriage, and you don’t get to know about my personal life.”
Isabella smirks and walks away from the table. My blood pressure rises still as she turns her back to me. She pours out the rest of her coffee and walks out of the kitchen. I don’t know how I will deal with this woman for nine months.
Karma is obviously a woman, and she is pissed.
Isabella
He has no idea who the hell he is dealing with. How dare he spend the night with her. We haven’t been married for two days and he does this? I realize this is a business arrangement, but how about decency? How about respect? How about having your affair but coming home at night? If he wants to play games, I will play them. He wants a wife, and he may have one, but a quiet, obedient one he won’t get.
Unholy Union Page 7
