Arianna
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I wait in the silence of the room. I want to be here when they wake. Matteo and Luca have dragged the Mancinis’ limp bodies down into the basement and tied them up. I contemplate my speech when they come to. What do I want from this situation? I know who they work for. That much is obvious. These men clearly aren’t the ringleaders of any sort. They have no brainpower. I mean, to actually follow me willingly inside the house, knowing that they’re there to either capture or kill me, means they’re definitely not firing on all cylinders. I’m almost offended that Bellino or Massimo has sent these imbeciles after me rather than coming for me themselves.
I stare at them, waiting for a flicker of anything instructing me that they’ll wake soon from their slumber, but nothing. The door creaks open, and I flick my gaze to see Matteo standing there with a steaming cup of coffee. I sigh. I’ve been trying to avoid being alone with him since the issue with the photos of Vittorio. I know someone had doctored them. But I didn’t want to argue. I didn’t want to give energy to the situation.
“Can we talk?”
“Sure.” I try to keep my voice neutral. My gaze blank and I pull up the chair and sit.
“Why didn’t you ask him about the photos?” His face pinched tight, confused, as if he thought those pictures alone would be cause for divorce. As if I would blow my whole relationship up over obviously doctored pictures. But instead of reacting, I remembered what Marianne told me about foundations, and I believe me and Vittorio are strong.
We’d taken time to trust in each other. Yes, there was a lot of fucking, a lot of spending time naked, but that was also time spent getting to know each other, getting to know each other’s bodies, every inch of them. We spent nights wrapped in each other’s arms, talking and learning, putting in the work. Setting those foundations, making them strong, impenetrable. Creating a unit stronger than any we’ve ever seen. Making sure we are the exception to mafia families, we are stronger together.
The world needed to watch out because we were coming for it.
“Where did you get them from?” I retort.
He schools his face. “They were in the post-box.”
“Funny, there were no postmarks on them.” I frown. I remember checking them intently when I was alone, studying each image, double-checking every detail. Nothing was incriminating about them. No postmark, no fingerprints that I could find. The envelope, blank.
“They must have been hand-delivered.”
“Did you check the security footage to see who had dropped them off?” I did, and knew it had been deleted, erased, corrupted, but by whom?
“No… yes, it was corrupted.” He tries to sound confident in his reply, but I see him wavering.
“Hmm, convenient.” I muse.
“Arianna—”
“Matteo.” I cut him off. “Don’t try to derail my relationship again. Is this going to be a problem for you?”
He shakes his head, dropping his eyes to the mug in front of him, and reaches it out. “Peace offering?” He gives me a tentative smile.
I eye him dubiously. Before softening a little, reaching up and take the coffee. I breathe it in, settling the warm mug into my hands before looking up at him.
“Will this be the end of this? Matteo, I need to know. If you want to be relocated, I’ll understand.”
I take a few sips of the coffee. His gaze is trained on me, contemplating his answer. I give him space. I give him time to come up with an honest reply after assessing his thoughts. He takes a step closer.
“I wanted to be the one you wanted. I know I’ll never have the breeding of someone like him.” He spits the “him.” Emphasising it, like it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, like it burns his tongue and he needs to eject it. “But that first day I walked back in the house, you peppered in blood, it was like I saw you for the first time. I knew you were special.”
He trails off, eyes glazing as if contemplating what could have been. I allow him to process everything. Sipping silently at my coffee while I play over every interaction we have ever had. There were definitely moments where my intentions weren’t clear as my judgment was clouded, but I made sure I set boundaries. I know I probably should have fired him back then. I won’thesitate to remove him from my employment now if we can’t see a way through this.
“If he hadn’t come along, would I have even stood a chance, someone like me? Would you have looked at me as more than a quick fuck, an equal maybe?”
“Matteo.” The word slurs as it exits my lips. My eyes flick down and back up to meet his. “Matteo?” My voice shakes, my eyes feel heavy, my body quivers, and my hands shake. I start to slump in the chair. My hands feel heavy and tingly, like they aren’t a part of my body anymore. The mug clatters to the ground, remnants of coffee splash up in slow motion, the world’s axis tilts, as I whisper out.
“Wrong coffee.” I gasp as my eyes flutter. Fighting to stay in control. Clawing at reality, trying to get it to stay, to not leave me. Matteo rushes to my side. He crashes to his knees. His hands come up to grab me, stopping me from toppling out of the chair.
“Arianna.” Concern etched in his tone. My head lolls, and my eyes roll. He cups my cheeks. His gaze flicks from eye to eye. “Arianna, it’ll be okay. I’ve got you.”
“Matteo,” I slur. “Get Vitto—”
I can’t finish the sentence. No matter how hard I try, I can’t move my lips to form the words. My eyes glaze over as they roll uncontrollably. My jaw slackens.
Matteo stares into my face, and just before my eyes close and the darkness ascends, I’m sure I see a devious smile cross his face as he whispers out, “You should have chosen me!”
To be continued…
