Chapter 0004

Mirabella's pov

When my mother would dress me up as a princess and tell me that all I had to do was want something and it'd automatically be mine, I didn't believe it to be true until today.

This very day that has me nauseous; this day that I somehow loathe with everything in my gut happens to be my wish come true.

It has always been my desire, a grand wedding of this manner, this wedding dress and a man whom I love and who adores me. But I got the wedding, I got the location, I got the dress but the man who's going to be waiting for me at the top of that altar is going to be my worst nightmare.

And my mother? She's not even here to witness this. A part of me feels grateful that she doesn't get to see her daughter handed over to a maniac, but a part of me wishes that she's here to hug me and tell me that everything will be fine.

Standing hand in hand with my father outside the grand door of the St. Peter's Basilica Rome, hearing the priest and the congregation sing the last line of the hymn, my heart begins pounding hard against my chest and I stumble.

"Please father, this is the last chance to change your mind." Even knowing that my father cares nothing for me, I still push my luck with him. The idea of living with a man such as Matteo Messina Denaro has me shuddering and throwing up in my mouth.

He's a sick bastard.

A sick bastard who's about to become my husband.

My brain suddenly abandons me and drifts into a fog and I don't realize how erratic my breath has become or that I'm frozen in place while the whole congregation has their head turned to the entrance of the chapel as they watch and wait for me to walk down the aisle until my father nudges me with his shoulder.

When the hell did the doors open?

"Behave yourself Mirabella. Do not raise any suspicions," My father orders me in a whisper as he walks me down the grand hall of the chapel.

If I'm not so terrified of Matteo, I'd think my heart skipped a beat when he set his eyes upon me. The sight of him is a lot to take in, ranging from his perfectly styled dark hair, to his intimidating hazel eyes, his chiseled jaw, broad shoulders; he has it all physically speaking.

But the way he's looking at me, the way his lips very often curve up and his eyebrows twitch, the way he scoffs and gives his head a slight nod; everything he does somehow tells me how much this man is going to make my life with him unbearable.

"You are beautiful wife. I could go down on my knees and worship the ground you walk upon if this wasn't such a lie." Matteo mutters in a hushed tone as he takes my hand and places a kiss on my knuckles. Once again my heart skips a beat.

Probably because I'm terrified of him.

The Archpriest starts off with initiating the wedding proceedings, Bible passages recited, advice given, communion taken and finally the time to exchange vows and rings arrives.

I and Matteo turn around to face each other and for a moment, something flashes in his eyes but gets immediately replaced by that devilish, malicious look causing me to gulp harshly.

I place the ring on the tip of Matteo's ring finger and recite my vows; "I Annabella Marcelo take you Matteo Messina Denaro as my husband. In the presence of God I promise to be good to you in good and bad times, in sickness and in health. I will honor you and love you all the days of my life."

I shudder.

"Matteo Messina Denaro, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of God the father and of the son and of the Holy Spirit." I push the ring down the length of his ring finger and Matteo consequently does the same.

He recites his vows with genuineness laced in his voice and a tear rolls down my cheek when he pushes the ring down the length of my ring finger.

The beginning of my misery.

The priest orders us to face the congregation and we do, "ladies and gentlemen, sons and daughters of God, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Messina Denaro. You may kiss your bride."

I turn to face Matteo as he takes a few steps forward, closing the distance between us and lifts my veil over my head. He strokes my cheek with his thumb and leans down and my eyes shut involuntarily as my breath picks up its pace but what Matteo does next causes goosebumps to become visible on my skin.

He places his lips on my jaw and sucks on the skin slightly, grazing me with his teeth and then whispers into my ear. "You have absolutely no idea what you're in for, wife. In good and bad times hmm? Never forget." Matteo straightens himself as he brushes his thumb over my bottom lip and directs it into his mouth, sucking my lip gloss off the pad of his thumb with a hum.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you all, but my wife and I would love to have this intimate moment privately, I'm not about to give y'all a show." he faces the crowd and jests. They're laughing, cheering and clapping and I eye him subtly.

Sick bastard.

He really doesn't care what people think of him.

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The after party passes smoothly with Matteo paying me no attention half the time and the other half, I was being introduced to the business partners of the Denaro's.

After the party, I and Matteo get into the car and head out to God knows where. "Where are we going?" I question and Matteo only looks me up and down and diverts his gaze, once again ignoring me and I almost explode in rage.

There has been this question playing in my head the moment Matteo denied kissing me on the altar and I've truly held myself back from asking that question but I end up letting it out before I die of curiosity. "Why didn't you kiss me at the church?"

"Isn't that a little too intimate?" Matteo doesn't look at me once but his tone is demeaning.

"So you don't do intimacy," I state rather than ask and rest the side of my head against the window.

"I do; only with the woman I love."

"You love someone?"

"Yes Bella, I love someone."

My stomach dips and tears brim my eyes; how am I married to someone whose heart beats for another. "Why didn't you marry her then?" I enquire further and for the first time since this car ride, Matteo looks up at me but in a glaring manner.

Did I trigger something?

"She's dead." He says as his jaw locks and I can see from the outline how hard he's grinding his teeth.

Maybe I shouldn't have asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Matteo chuckles humorlessly and flexes his fingers, "don't be, I killed her."

What the hell!

I should stop talking now.

We arrive the airstrip after a few hours and board the private jet where I finally am able to change out of the uncomfortable reception dress that has been stinging my skin all evening. Matteo and the pilot stands aside and mumble a few things back and forth before he comes back and sits himself opposite me; all the while staring at me as if his eyes could burn holes through my skin.

. . .

"Milan!" I squeal excitedly as my eyes flutter open and I find us driving through my favorite city.

I apparently fell asleep and stayed asleep all through the flight and was carried into the car once we landed Milan.

How hard I'm trying to escape my reality.

"Yes Milan, we'll be here a while as I have very important businesses to take care of," Matteo looks me up and down as he utters each word and the corner of his lips tilts up. "Isn't this where your sister has her lab or something? Maybe we can invite her to dinner sometime."

I gulp down harshly and look away from him, "I don't have any business inviting her to dinner; moreover, I'm certain she'd decline."

After we got to the Denaro's estate in Milan, we were greeted and shown to our separate rooms by the housekeepers and now I'm finally settled and ready to have best night rest.

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A hard slap is delivered to my face and I crash onto the ground. "Keep hitting her until she tells us everything," my father seethes and more punches is delivered to my ten year old figure.

"Do you want to be put on the chair?"

I push myself back, screaming frantically as my chest tightens. The electric chair comes in sight and they're men preparing to sit me on it and torture me until I tell the truth of what I saw on the day my mother was murdered.

But I promised her, I promised my mother that I'd die with that secret and indeed that one secret has me close to death every day since her passing.

Still, I'm unable to say a word about it.

"No."

"No."

"Please father, I promise I don't remember anything. Not the chair, please father."

"Anna, please make him stop!"

I'm crawling on my hands and knees, begging my sister at her feet but she only glares at me. Her eyes telling me she doesn't care what happens to me as long as it makes father happy.

Strong arms grip me by my hair and drag me across the room towards the chair and I go mad for a minute;

"What are you doing; please don't do this to me..no..no.. I-I..don't do it."

I jolt up from my sleep and my body is shaking vigorously. My breath is erratic, my chest feels constricted to a point where I'm unable to have a smooth passage of air. I scream my frustration and my eyes water uncontrollably as I whimper.

Slowly, I begin drifting to that dark place once again. A place that makes me feel trapped and the room suddenly feels like it's enclosing on me. I feel suffocated in every way possible. I fall off the bed but I don't care about the pain as I continue whimpering, slamming my fist against my chest in attempt to get access to more air but it's all futile.

After a while, I'm finally able to put myself under control and head downstairs to the kitchen to grab some water, only then did my ears pick up on grunt sounds coming from the study and I halt my movement.

Of course, I'm scared.

A part of me thinks it's danger and a part of me thinks my husband is fucking another woman in our matrimonial home.

How fucked up my life is.

I tiptoe through the hallway and bring myself to a stop when I'm in front of the study. surprisingly the door is ajar and I peak my head through, immediately locking eyes with my husband who's seated on the couch and there's a woman kneeling between his legs and taking his cock down her throat.

Fuck.

For some reason I'm frozen and my mouth drops.

Matteo on the other hand doesn't take his eyes off me, he shows me exactly how much he's enjoying this play. He wiggles his brows at me and the corners of his lips tilts up.

"Do you want to join us? Wife?"