Chapter 6 You Don't Get to End Things

Matteo staggered, but even in that state he immediately noticed Cameron standing in front of him, looking as harmless as ever. The wineglass in Cameron's hand was empty—the red wine was all over Matteo.

"You should head upstairs to change. You look a little… unpresentable like this," Cameron said with an easy smile, as if he was just being considerate.

"What's going on, Cameron?" Natasha walked up to Cameron before meeting Matteo's gaze head-on.

Her face darkened, clear displeasure flashing across her eyes. "How could you be so careless? Cameron just got out of the hospital and is still recovering. What if something happens to him?"

No questions, no attempt to find out what really happened—just instant blame.

Natasha's expression was icy as she stood beside Cameron. It was as if she'd never even met Matteo before.

Matteo gave the two of them an indifferent look, then turned to head upstairs to change.

"Hold it right there! You think you can just walk away after crashing into someone? Apologize to Cameron!" Natasha's sharp reprimand cut through the noise, drawing everyone's attention.

"It's fine, Tasha. I'm not hurt. He probably… didn't do it on purpose." Cameron took her hand, trying to soothe her.

"He definitely meant to do it. Out of everyone here, how is it that he just happened to bump into you?" Her brows drew together in a scowl, and impatience crept into her tone. "Matteo, did you not hear me? Apologize!"

People nearby started whispering about how out of line Matteo was.

All he did was look at Natasha again. The face he knew so well suddenly felt disturbingly unfamiliar. It hit him then that maybe he'd never really known her at all. The years of love they'd shared… were a lie.

"He's the one who ran into me. If you don't believe me, go check the security footage. I don't have time to play this game with you." His voice was low and steady as he threw out the words. Then he walked toward the lounge without looking back.

"You—" Natasha clenched her fists, then turned to Cameron and spoke in a softer, coaxing tone. "Wait for me. I need to go handle something."

She hurried after Matteo and yanked him to a stop at the second-floor corner.

"What are you playing at, humiliating Cameron in front of everyone like that? I told you no one's gonna replace you. What exactly are you still fighting for?" she hissed.

She stood in Matteo's way, but his face remained calm as he shook her off. "That's between you and him, Ms. Wilde. I'm not interested."

With that, he moved to leave again.

"Matteo Fulton!"

"Tasha… Mr. Egan and the others are still waiting for you to come back," Cameron called gently as he caught up, cutting her off mid-sentence.

After a heartbeat, the sound of their footsteps walking away together rang out.

Matteo's hands curled into fists without him even realizing it. He walked into the lounge and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. It took several deep breaths before the churning in his chest finally began to settle.

Natasha. Tasha…

What a joke.

She'd once said that because of her position at work, she couldn't go public with their relationship. So in public, he almost never appeared at her side.

But now, she could stroll around arm-in-arm with Cameron, maintaining such a high profile as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

She'd always been too busy with work to spend time with Matteo. Just grabbing a simple meal together was rare enough that he treasured every second and secretly wished the clock would slow down.

Yet, just yesterday, a single phone call from Cameron had been enough to make her drop everything and rush to him.

In the end, it all boiled down to something simple—she just didn't love Matteo enough.

He let out a long, shaky breath and opened his eyes again. He forced himself to pull it together and started to change, planning to throw on something clean and go meet Peter.

Matteo had just taken off his suit jacket when the lounge door opened. He turned and froze when he saw who it was.

Abigail leaned against the doorframe with a shopping bag in hand. She let her gaze travel lazily over him, finally landing on the redness at the corners of his eyes. The corner of her mouth tugged up in the faintest hint of a smile.

"Why do you look like you just got dumped?" she asked.

"What are you…" He hadn't expected her to show up out of nowhere.

"I brought you some clothes." Abigail shut the door and set the bag down in front of him.

"You…" Matteo was already halfway through changing shirts when he stiffened and tried to think of what to say.

"We're already married, and you're just changing a shirt. What are you so shy about?" Her offhand reaction snapped something into place for him.

He stopped overthinking it, stripped off his shirt, and put on the fresh one.

"Do you know how to dance? The opening dance is about to start."

Matteo nodded. They went downstairs together.

Soft piano music flowed through the hall. Once the doors were shut, the invited elites took their partners' hands and moved with the music.

Matteo rarely danced, but this piece was one he knew. He gently took Abigail's hand, and they moved in sync. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the room had faded away, leaving only the two of them.

"Ah!"

A cry of surprise broke through the music, snapping Matteo out of his focus.

Right beside them, Cameron had fallen to the floor. His brows were knit, and he looked more than a little pathetic.

"Cameron, are you okay?" Natasha hurried to help him up.

Abigail didn't even falter. She spared him a brief, indifferent glance. "If you don't know how to dance, go practice somewhere private. Embarrassing yourself out here like that? That's on you."

She arched a brow, her red lips curling in a bright, taunting smile as she led Matteo away under Natasha's displeased glare.

When the music ended, Abigail tossed her long hair back over her shoulder and jerked her chin toward the left. "Mr. Brown is over there. I've got other things to take care of."

She patted Matteo's shoulder, grabbed a fresh glass of wine, and walked off.

He watched her go, momentarily dazed. Had she just… stood up for him?

He didn't dwell on it and headed over to Peter with the documents he'd prepared. Though he'd never handled a client of this level alone before, he'd done his homework. After politely introducing himself, he answered every one of Peter's questions clearly and confidently.

In the end, Peter accepted the documents with obvious satisfaction and even asked for Matteo's number.

This was a fantastic start.

After saying goodbye to Peter, Matteo sat down on a couch, already running through in his mind which parts of the model he needed to fine-tune next.

He'd already lost interest in the rest of the reception. All he wanted now was for the night to be over so he could go home with Abigail.

Just then, a pair of red high heels stopped in front of him.

"So that's why you suddenly grew a spine and insisted on leaving," Natasha said, her expression tight, like she was there to put him on trial. "Turns out you've latched onto Abigail Pearce."

She went on, "She's not someone you can handle. Women like her, who think they're above everyone else, don't buy into things like true love. I'm not like that. Matteo, I can treat this whole thing as you throwing a tantrum, but my patience has a limit. Keep this up, and it's gonna blow up in your face."

Matteo stood up and faced her head-on. "I'm done repeating myself. Whatever was between us is over."

"You don't get to decide that! You have no right to end this. You're the one who said you wanted to stick to me for life, Matteo. You lost the right to say no a long time ago." Anger crept onto her face as she pushed him further.

"Abigail and I are already—"

Natasha's phone pinged before he could finish. It was a text from Cameron.

Cameron: "I'm waiting for you at the entrance, Tasha."

Natasha pressed her lips together, then reached out to smooth Matteo's collar like nothing had happened. "You can only ever be mine."