Hate Me, Love Me (Ongoing)

Chapter 13

Like I expected, not everyone approves of me and Mateo. Well, it's more so that they don't approve of me. I'm standing by the table full of refreshments, nibbling on a strawberry when I overhear who I'm pretty sure is my fourth cousin on my mom's side make a rude comment. She's talking about me. She doesn't bother keeping her voice down as she comments about how small and unflattering I am.

I didn't see what my physical appearance had to do with anything. She just thought it would be funny to be condescending. Now I remember why I didn't like her. She was always a spoiled brat.

Another person, this time on Mateo's side of the family, makes some comment about whether or not I'm fertile. Feeling scrutinized under everyone's gaze, I escape the foyer in search of a bathroom.

I find the nearest bathroom and lock myself inside it. I remove my gloves and set them on the counter. The water is turned on as I cup my hands together and splash cold water on my face. I stare into the mirror, trying to give myself a pep talk.

It doesn't help much. Reminding myself to breathe, I force myself to get it together. I need to find Mateo. He's been everywhere but by my side. Not that I'm complaining. His presence is suffocating. But at the same time, we aren't too convincing as a couple apart.

Exiting the bathroom, I bump into someone. A man. He looks to be around my age with blond hair and dark eyes. His jaw is chiseled and clean shaven. He's not bad looking, but something about him screams danger.

I shift to the right so I can leave. But he moves with me, blocking my escape. "Anastasia, is it?" His accent tells me he's Italian. My blood runs cold when he reaches out to touch my hair. He tugs on a curl, and the lock springs back into place.

I swat his hand away. He snickers. "Mateo's got himself a feisty little Russian. You know, a little birdie told me you can't speak. I bet I could fix that for you."

I'm disgusted. Whoever this man is, I don't want to be associated with him in any way. I take a step to the left and slip out from under him. He grabs my wrist, and in one swift motion, I pivot and throw my fist into his face.

He releases my wrist, his hand flying up to grab his nose. Stunned, he wipes away at the blood dripping down. "You Russian bitch," he growls, groaning in pain. "You could have broken my nose."

I step away before rushing back into the crowd. I track down Mateo. He's talking to a beautiful older woman with gorgeous black hair and flawless brown skin. Her hazel green eyes dart to me. She smiles.

I must appear frazzled because her smile disappears. "Are you okay?" She has an accent also, but it's not as prominent as everyone else.

I rush out a nod. Mateo looks down at me, then my hand. I hadn't noticed I'd bruised it punching that guy until now. I shove my hand behind my back.

Mateo looks away, and I'm relieved. But then he raises his voice, wanting everyone's attention. He thanks everyone for attending before proceeding with the purpose of tonight's party. "I have an announcement."

I spot that one guy I encountered just a moment ago. He has tissue stuffed up his nose, a displeased frown on his face. I let out a quiet laugh.

"I'm pretty sure you have all figured it out on your own, but I will be marrying Anastasia Vasiliev."

Gasps explode throughout the foyer, their whispers spreading like wildfires. The only people not surprised are my grandfather and Mateo's immediate family.

I lift my hand, making a show of revealing the ring and smiling like the happiest woman in the world. Then, to really sell it, I do something Mateo never expects.

I place my hand on his cheek, turn his head, and pull him in for a kiss. He's shocked but plays it off well as his lips dance with mine.

A tingling sensation is shot through me like electricity from my lips down to my toes. I've never kissed anyone before. I don't know why I gave Mateo my first kiss. He's the last person I'd ever want. But damn is he a good kisser.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes dark. His lips are plump and a little red from my lipstick. I can't read his expression, so I have no clue if I did it right. Maybe he's pissed.

Though he shouldn't be. The kissed worked. He should honestly be thanking me. His announcement alone wouldn't have been believable enough. We're supposed to be in love, remember?

Suddenly, he's taking my hand in his and dragging me out of the foyer. To everyone else, we probably look like horny teenagers.

He's squeezing my bruised hand. I wince, wondering why the hell he's being so aggressive. I manage to yank my hand free only for him to grab it again and pull it up to his face. "What happened?" He demands once we're alone.

I thought he was pissed about the kiss. Why is bringing up my hand? That couldn't possibly be what upset him.

I shrug.

He growls. "You're lying. What. Happened?"

Again, I shrug. He drops my hand. I was surprised he didn't put up more of a fight. I slip my hands back into my gloves and end up dropping my ribbon in the process.

Mateo bends down to pick it up, and instead of handing it to me, he pockets it.

The thief doesn't speak to me for the rest of the night. He does well to hide our dislike for each other with brief glances and gentle touches on the small of my back. If I didn't know any better, I'd almost believe he actually liked me.

But like I said, I knew better. Mateo only cares for himself. I'm just a means to an end.