Obsession

Chapter Twenty-Seven - Ventisette

You could hear a pin drop the moment I spoke out against my father.

How could he casually sit there, cutting into his steak, and toss those words about?

Did he think, telling me in front of strange men, would I accept his demands?

I didn't wish to marry a year ago, and by legal stances, I can not now; nor do I want to.

"You are not married to him," my father curtly brushed away my words. "No child of Bonetti blood will be associated with a Rivera." He spits the family name on the floor.

The men in the room mumble amongst themselves.

"I will not marry another," I speak out again. This time, my voice holds more authority.

"You will marry this man." I notice how my father's eyes veer to Matteo. When I look at the man seated beside me, he doesn't lift his head to pay me any attention.

I turn back to my father. "Who is this man you wish me to wed?" Not that I would succumb to his demands. For that to happen, I would need to sign divorce papers. So would Alessandro. And I know he wouldn't even dream of letting me go.

Matteo clears his throat and places his callous hand over mine. "That would be me, mia cara."

His words were like a soccer punch to the gut. It only worsens when he gleams in my direction with a sick, twisted smile. When did they plot this arrangement? I slid my hand out from under his. How can he sit there and touch me like I wasn't a married woman, and my heart belonged to another? He knew this. Matteo knew how much I love Alessandro. 

He rolled his eyes, unimpressed by my reaction. "I didn't think you would be ecstatic, but to remove your hand from mine like I was repulsive." He reaches out and takes my hand, tugging it so I'm practically on his lap. I turn to see if my father is watching this, only to see he was too busy tending to Gianna. 

"That kind of hurts." 

I whip my head back to Matteo with a raised brow.
From where I am sitting the only thing that hurts is my wrist, the one where his fingers clamped tightly around.

"Don't act shocked," he murmurs, brushing my wispy hair from my face. "I told you we would have plenty of time to get to know each other, did I not?" 

He brushes his finger down the side of my face and grips my jaw. "We are going to have so much fun." 

I scoff and wriggle away from his grasp, which he willingly allowed me to do so.

"Please Papa," I turn to face my father, who had just pressed a soft tender kiss on Gianna's cheek.

"I beg of you, don't make me do this. I won't. I. I." I turn to glance at Matteo who looked amused with what he witnessing. With his brow raised, sitting there casually stroking his chin. 

"I will run away!" 

I know how idiotic that sounded. How could I escape? Italy may be my birth town, but it is also foreign. I've never stepped outside the walls of my family estate until now. But if it came down to it, I would try. You best believe it. 

My father snapped his fingers and one of the men dressed in an immaculate suit, slides his chair out and made his way over to my father and I. 

"Here are the papers you requested." 

My father takes the offered envelope without so much as a thank you to the man standing at his side. I watch as he opens it and slides out the paper. He briefly glances at each page, before nodding his head and mumbling to himself.