“I have a meeting,” I lie.
She nods and doesn’t say a word. She realizes I am lying. I just got home, so it’s obvious I am lying. I walk away with her still on the counter, wiping my semen off. I leave a small piece of myself in that house with her. I think it’s my favorite part of myself—the man that I am when I am with her. I am going to give her the best gift I can give her. I am about to offer her distance on a silver platter. I hope she realizes I am doing it for her.
I drive around Chicago for the rest of the night. Do you ever end up in a place that you shouldn’t be in? I don’t know how long I sit in front of Sarah’s. I want to go inside to fuck her, just to prove something to myself, but I can’t. The thought of touching her makes me sick.
It takes willpower to drive away and go with the next best option. He is going to be pissed, but what choice do I have? It takes Paolo five minutes to answer the door. He sent me a text earlier telling me that he’s back in town for a couple of days. He’s been out of state taking care of my father but comes back occasionally to take care of his patients.
“Do you know what time it is?” he growls.
“We need to talk.” I push him aside.
He groans and walks past me, falling into his sofa. “Fine, talk.”
“Is there any way out of this marriage clause?”
“You only have three months,” he reminds me.
“I don’t need you to remind me how long I have. This has gone on long enough. I can’t take this shit anymore,” I answer indulgently.
“Why can’t you just stick out the three months?”
“She is driving me crazy. She is always at the house. She leaves her shit all over the place. She always wants to talk and expects me to come home every fucking night. I can’t keep doing these date nights and dinners!” I mutter hastily.
Paolo laughs and rubs his beard.
“What the hell is so funny?” I ask.
“You’ve fallen in love with her.”
Matteo Stone doesn’t fall in love. Women are like cars. You keep them for a limited time, while there is a warranty, and then you get rid of them. The only time you keep them is if they are like Sarah. I use her and never have to claim ownership. She is the perfect lease.
“I am not in love with her.”
“Yeah, you are. The sad part is it’s scaring you shitless.”
“Fuck you. I don’t know why I thought I could talk to you.”
“Matteo, it’s okay if this turned real for you. I think it’s what Dad wanted,” he says.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. How is he?”
“He’s doing better. I changed his meds and he is responding. The Rossi’s have been calling the house.”
“The Rossi’s are going to have a dead hitman in a few hours. He came to my house and attacked Isabella.”
“What the hell? Is she okay?”
“Yeah, I got there in time. Therefore, this fake marriage needs to end. Every minute she is in this world, she’s in danger.”
“I thought you hired her a bodyguard?” he asks.
“It was after he left for the night. She was at home, and I was supposed to be there. I got sidetracked by Sarah.”
Paolo suggests that I not make any rash decisions regarding Isabella. What he doesn’t understand is this isn’t a rash decision. I have been thinking about this for months. Every second with her, I am getting attached. I don’t know what I was thinking when I came here. I should have gone with plan A. I know exactly what I have to do. I am not sure if it will be my medicine or punishment, but it has to be done.
Driving back to her house, I sit outside five minutes before going to the door. I can hear the sound of Isabella’s soft laugh when I make a joke. I think back to how I feel when I am touching her soft skin. I am doing this for both of us. Forcing myself to walk up the long sidewalk, I can feel my legs get weak. I can hear the softness of Isabella’s voice telling me to come home to her. Don’t do this to us. What she doesn’t realize is I am doing this for us.
There is a gentle softness in her voice. The sound is just as phony as she is. Sarah is excited that her Matteo is back. The man she is crazy about, who she feared had lost his way. Have I lost my way? Maybe I actually found a different way? The thought is instantly lost when she opens her mouth.
“I can’t believe you suggested this, babe. I am so excited.”
I squeeze her thigh and glance back at the road. Why does this feel like a mistake?
“I thought it would be a good idea for us to get away for a few days,” I offer.
“I think so, too. I have missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you, too, Sarah,” I lie.
Isabella
“Sarah and I are going away for a few days. I’ll see you when we get back.”
My mind refuses to register the significance of his words. I mask my inner turmoil with a deceptive calmness. Matteo is taking a vacation with Sara? He screws me in the kitchen and runs away with Sarah? If he can take a vacation with his girlfriend, why do I need to sit in this damn house? Was I just being stupid thinking things had changed between us? I pack up my clothes and bump into Brutus on the way out. His eyes narrow when he glances at my bag.
“Where you going?” he asks.
“I am going home. Matteo is on vacation, so I don’t need to stay here.”
I can see him thinking about what I just announced. I hope he doesn’t try to stop me or call Matteo. “I don’t think Mr. Stone would like you moving out.”
“You’re more than welcome to follow me and stand outside that door,” I tell him.
I never expected him to take me up on that offer, but he did. Brutus follows me to my apartment. I fight back tears when I realize the key doesn’t work. What was I thinking? Matteo had my shit put in storage. Of course, this is no longer my apartment. A man pulls open the door and asks why I am trying to get into his apartment. I apologize and practically bump into Brutus as I turn to rush out. Why does life keep fucking me over?
Sitting in my car crying, I stare out the rear-view mirror as Brutus watches me. Calling Simone, I whine to her that I am leaving Matteo. She insists that I move in with her until I can get myself settled. I hate to intrude on my best friend, but I have no other choice. I will not run home to my parents. Twenty minutes later, I am having a glass of wine with Simone while Brutus guards the door.
“Tell me everything,” she whispers.
I finally confess how I was forced to marry Matteo, so he will inherit his father’s business. Her mouth drops when I explain the blackmail. I watch as Simone walks over to her desk, pulls something out, and starts writing. She hands me a check. It’s enough to pay the balance I owe to the bank.
“I wish you would have told me this from the beginning.”
“I can’t take this, Simone.” I try to hand the check back to her, but she refuses.
“You would rather owe him than me?”
I can’t let Matteo and Sarah control me anymore. The man is playing mind games with me. One day, he is treating me like the plague, and the next, he is acting like he truly has feelings for me. Who the hell has sex with someone one minute and leaves town with another woman a few hours later? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I could almost see the switch flip when he was pulling away from me.
I should probably run as fast as I can. He isn’t good for me. I can’t let my feelings stop me from doing what is right. At least, I think leaving him is right. It doesn’t feel right, but I have to let my head lead and not my heart.
After a few more glasses of wine, I head off to bed. I toss and turn most of the night thinking about him. Those dark eyes and protective hands. Those same hands are most likely all over Sarah’s body right now. The dark eyes that I have stared into belong to her. Simone lent me the money, and this will officially be over. What I don’t understand is, despite everything, it feels like my heart is breaking.
The next morning, I walk into the bank president’s off
ice. Her eyes glance between me and Brutus. She is startled when I hand her the check. I bite my tongue despite wanting to say, “Surprised, bitch?”
She nods and advises that the authorities won’t be needed. I breathe a sigh of relief as I climb into my car. It’s over… I can finally move on with my life. My phone beeps, alerting me that I have a text message.
I’ll be home tomorrow night. – Matteo
Little does he know, when he does go home, I won’t be there. Have you watched the clock for twenty-four hours before? Simone unsuccessfully tries to keep my mind off Matteo. I can’t stop thinking about how he’ll react when he finds out I left. Will he even care? I suppose Sarah can keep him occupied.
“Just don’t sign the divorce papers for three months,” Simone suggests.
“What?” I ask. Was it that obvious that I was thinking about him?
“Don’t sign the papers. He only needs a wife for another three months. Just stay here with me and stay legally married. You don’t have to live with him to be considered married,” she explains.
I never considered that. I can stay with Simone while Matteo lives happily ever after with Sarah. What more could he want? He’ll have his woman, and soon, he’ll take over his precious business. It’s the only thing that ever mattered anyway.
A few hours later, Simone and I are binge-watching our favorite show. Brutus bangs on the door hard enough to cause a hole. Rolling her eyes, she answers, and he nearly knocks her over when he comes inside.
“The boss wants to talk to you,” he tells me.
Shit. I didn’t plan on him actually wanting to talk. What was supposed to happen was he should have come home, seen I was gone, and moved on.
“Hello?” I whisper.
Simone turns down the volume, I assume so she can hear what is being said.
“What are you doing, Isabella?”
“I am staying with a friend. It’s over, Matteo.”
He is silent for a few minutes before he questions me. Matteo doesn’t understand why I left the house and am saying we are over. I am confused that he doesn’t understand. He left town with another woman.
I realize this whole marriage is a business arrangement, but he has to realize lines have been crossed. The relationship became real, and he walked out on me. I hate to admit it, but he hurt me. He only had to wait three months to run back to her, and he couldn’t respect me enough to do that. Am I being unreasonable? Maybe I am, but at this point, I don’t care. I have had enough.
“We need to talk about this, Isabella.”
“No, we don’t, Matteo. We can stay married until the business legally becomes yours, but I can’t stay with you. Maybe we can be friends.”
He growls.
I close my eyes, realizing what I just said. We can be friends? Who am I kidding? I have no interest in being his friend.
“I have to go.” I quickly hang up before he responds.
Matteo
I spend one of the longest weeks of my life with Sarah. I am bored, irritated, lonely, and depressed. Sarah is getting on every nerve possible. I can’t stand the sound of her voice. I can’t stand for her to touch me. We have sex the first night, but it’s a one-time thing. It feels like a chore and not something I enjoy. I think about Isabella the entire time. I wonder what she is doing every second. I cannot wait to get home to my wife.
At the end of the week, I rush home, driving like a fucking maniac to get to her. The first thing I notice is that Brutus isn’t at the door. Did something happen to her? She is nowhere to be found. I call Brutus to find out what the hell is going on.
I stop breathing when he tells me that she moved out. I don’t believe him. I look in the closet and find her things are gone. I need to talk to her. A few minutes later, she is on the phone telling me that it’s over.
We can stay married and be friends.
I don’t want to be her friend; she is my wife. I am her husband. I want her back home, in my bed, tonight. She hangs up before I can argue with her.
I pushed her away when I ran off with Sarah. I thought it was what I had to do. It was in her best interest and mine. I was wrong, and now, I need to fix this shit. How can I get myself out of this mess? How do I fix the biggest mistake I have ever made? There is only one person that will understand how much of a mistake I have made.
“I need to see him,” I whisper.
This is going to hurt like a motherfucker. He’ll know I screwed up, and what’s worse is he’ll know he was right about me. It’s bad enough when your parents think they can predict your every move. It’s worse when they are right.
“I’ll text you the address,” Paolo advises.
Three hours later, I am standing beside my father. He sits up in bed, and I notice his color has returned. He looks healthier. I stare into his eyes. I notice the picture of my mother next to his bed. Will I ever have that kind of love? Maybe I did have it until I messed up.
“Where is your wife?” he mumbles.
He hasn’t said this much in months. I smirk and shake my head. “She left me. You wanted me to get married to a nice girl, and I failed.”
“What happened?”
“I went on vacation with Sarah.”
His head swings lazily to the other side.
“She said we can be friends.”
He closes his eyes.
“I don’t need another friend. I want her back,” I whisper.
“Do what you need to do,” he tells me.
He didn’t say much, but he said enough. Being in the same room with him makes me feel grounded. It feels like, being in the room with him gives me every answer I need. I sit next to him and literally just look at him. I think about my entire life and how he trained me. The man taught me to kill, lead, and most of all, despite all the bad shit, he taught me how to love. It’s all about loyalty and who will always stand next to you.
I will apologize to her and hope she comes back. If I have to, I’ll even beg. I don’t know if I’ll be good at it since I have never begged for anything… ever. I have three months to make sure this marriage is permanent. I just hope she makes this easy.
Isabella ignores all my calls and texts. She wants nothing to do with me. I guess she isn’t going to make this easy. I don’t blame her. I would be pissed if she left town with another man. I deserve everything she dishes out.
After deciding that I have been ignored long enough, I call Brutus to find out where she’s at. I say a quick prayer before walking to the door.
“Can I help you?”
She doesn’t answer the door; another girl does. Her eyes rake over me, and I can tell instantly that she already doesn’t like me.
“Is Isabella here?”
“She isn’t having company. Please call before you come again.” She tries to close the door, but I wedge my foot in the door.
“Maybe I should introduce myself? I’m Matteo Stone, her husband.”
She shakes her head negatively. “Would you be the same husband that blackmailed her into the marriage, to begin with? Or maybe you’re the husband that just came back from vacation with his girlfriend?”
I give her a brief nod before forcing myself inside. I don’t have time for this shit. “I am the husband that fucked up. Is she here?”
“I realize that you’re used to getting your way, but this is my house. You need to get out.”
“Is my wife here?” I grit my teeth.
“She isn’t here.”
“Where is she?” I ask.
“What if I told you she is out of town with her boyfriend?”
I lean back, sizing her up. I have never hit a woman, but she is pushing my buttons. “Where is she?”
“None of your business. Get out,” she orders.
This girl is really something. I am not getting any information out of her. “Can you at least tell her that I want to talk to her?”
She bumps into me as she opens the door and nods for me to leave.
My temper when crossed can
almost be uncontrollable. This bitch is standing between me and my wife, but I must stay calm. Isabella turned to her, so she has to be important. I can’t hurt her; it will hurt Isabella.
I’ll wait it out. Hopefully, she’ll give Isabella the message and she’ll contact me.
Either she didn’t give her the message or Isabella absolutely wants nothing to do with me. It’s been two weeks since I left that house. I still call and text but never get a response. I find myself inexplicably dissatisfied with my life. I go to the office and do paperwork. Occasionally, I leave the office to collect money and beat the hell out of someone. I used to do it to uphold the family reputation. Now, with every punch or kick, it’s out of frustration. There is something missing in my life… she is missing.
I go home, wash the blood off my skin, and throw on my joggers. Going for a run, I stiffen as though someone has struck me. It’s a couple sitting on a bench, and they are kissing. The girl has hair the same color as Isabella’s. I know it isn’t her. It would hurt more if it was.
I need another cold shower. I go back home and wipe off the sweat. What I don’t need is what waits for me when I climb out. Sarah leans on the door, watching me as I dry off. She prowls toward me, and I feel my cock shrivel as she approaches.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Can’t a girl surprise her man?”
My lips pucker in annoyance as I push past her to get dressed. “This isn’t a good time.” I rip out the words impatiently.
“It’s never a good time anymore. What the hell is going on, Matteo? Is it Isabella? Is she being difficult?”
“She’s gone.” My voice is hoarse with frustration
“What do you mean, she’s gone?”
“She moved out. She left when we went on our little trip. Don’t worry, she said she’ll stay married.”
Unholy Union Page 10
