Visit to Joe

Chapter 3

“He says you have to meet someone, Matteo,” my chauffeur pronounced, his persistence grated on my nerves. “It’s Eleanor Benett. Your arranged bride.”

The words struck me. The name too familiar that I wish I'd heard nothing about it.

“No,” I whispered "No. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not meeting anyone.”

I started towards the double doors to the operating theatre, my legs moving on their own, by am instinct to go see him. To deny the surgeon’s brutal truth.

My chauffeur moved faster.

He stepped in front of the doors, blocking my path, his stance immovable. “Mr. Rossi. Please. Your father’s orders are absolute.”

“My father can go to hell!” I roared, the pain finally exploding into fury. My hands balled into fists, trembling. “Joseph is dead, Marco! Dead! And you want me to go meet some… some bride? Get out of my way!”

I lunged, not to fight him, but to push past, to force my way back into that sroom. Marco caught my arms, his grip firm but careful. He was trying to restrain me, not hurt me.

This only fueled my rage. I thrashed against him, a pathetic struggle against a figure I have no chance against.

“You don’t understand! He was fine! He was alive this morning! He was just late because of me!” Tears streamed down my face again. “I have to see him, Marco! Please, just let me see him!”

His face showed a flicker of sympathy. He knew Joseph. They all knew Joseph. But loyalty to my father superseded everything.

“We have no time, sir,”

. “They will be moving him soon.”

That phrase, "moving him," was a fresh stab. Moving him to where? To the morgue. To a slab. Not home. Not back to me.

The fight drained out of me as quickly as it had ignited. My limbs felt heavy.

The adrenaline had burned out, My rage collapsed into a numbness.

“Fine,” I choked out, my word barely audible. I stopped struggling, my body going slack in Marco’s grip. “Fine. Just… one minute. Please. Just let me… say goodbye.”

He hesitated, his eyes flicking to the empty hallway, then back to my face.

He released me slowly. “Only one moment, sir. It is not permitted.”

I didn’t wait for another word. I pushed past him, my legs leaden, and pushed open the heavy double doors. The operating theatre was eerily quiet, the sterile scent hit even harder in this room

And there he was.

Joseph.

He lay on the operating table, covered by a pristine white sheet up to his chest. His face, usually so full of laughter and life, was pale and still.

The dark hair, always a little unruly, was matted against his forehead. There was no sign of the catastrophic injuries, just unnatural stillness. His eyelids, those beautiful windows to his kind soul, were closed. As if he was sleeping.

Sleeping. My mind screamed the lie, grasping at it desperately.

I took one shaky step, then another, until I stood beside him. My hand reached out, hovering, trembling, before I gently placed it on his cold, unresponsive one. The warmth, it was gone. Just still, cold flesh.

“Joe,” I whispered brokenly. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” The tears came again, quiet now. “It should have been me. It should have been me.”

I stood there, timeless, until Marco’s heavy hand landed gently on my shoulder. “Mr. Rossi. We must go.”

I didn’t resist. I pulled my hand away, allowed Marco to guide me, almost to drag me, back through the double doors, past the empty waiting area, and into the waiting elevator.

The drive home was completely quiet. And the reality that I'll never see the only one I've ever loved continue to gnaw at me.

My life... It's now empty

"Mr Rossi?" A gentle tap on my shoulders accompanied the call.

I jumped.

"I've been calling out to for a while. You need to get a grip on yourself" Marco advised out of worry.. "we are home. Your family is waiting. The Bennets are also here"

"I'm not getting married to her" I croaked out.

He inclined his head. "I know but you have to make it in first"

I barely did when mother came out through thr back door to meet me. She looked at me with such sorrow in her eyes.

“I know, Matteo. Your chauffeur told me”

The tears came, gliding down my cheeks uncontrollably again. She’s the only one who has really accepted me for what I am. Father hated it. Ha hated me for not being like every other normal male child. Isn’t that why he’s trying to force me into a “seemingly normal” marriage?

I shook my head. “I don’t want to do this”

She brought her hand to my face, her fingers wiped at my tears.

“That’s why I’ve come out to help you out. Go out through the second gate. You’ll see a vehicle waiting out there.

It’s my driver. He’ll take you somewhere. Stay there until the night is over. I’m so sorry for your loss”

—THREE MONTHS LATER—

The board room was filled with stakeholders of the company, each of them muttering words without regard for the other.

An argument had just ensue based on succession issues.

I sat at the head of the long mahogany table, â part of me not wanting to be involved in any of these.

It’s been three months since I saw him, touched him, heard his laugh. Three months since I secretly snuck out of my mum’s private villa to go for his funeral rites.

I’ve never been able to visit him since then.

“Matteo,” Mr. Sterling, the lead representative for the minority shareholders called out to me a little too harshly..

I jerked from the oblivion, concentrating fully on him

“You have new suggestions you want to share without arguing now, Mr Sterling?”

His brows quirked in unappreciation to my words but he didn’t voice his displeasure, he simply continued speaking. “We appreciate you attending this meeting for the very first time in years “ his tone has a streak of sarcasm in them. “This succession is a critical matter. Your father’s health is declining, and the board requires a firm direction for the conglomerate.”

I nodded curtly, my face giving zero emotions. I could’ve stayed hidden in the secluded villa my mother had arranged for me. I only returned because Marco had insisted that missing the official transition meeting would be seen as weakness, a sign to my father that I was unfit to inherit his wealth.

Not like he’d have another choice if I made no show, i am the only child after all but the stakeholders might pose a threat.

“The direction is clear,” I stated. “We will proceed with the acquisition of the new property as planned. We are dropping all of my father’s old deals. They’ve proven to be a dead weight over time”

A murmur went through the room.

“That is quite an aggressive one, Mr. Rossi,” one woman commented. “And the Benett merger? We were expecting an announcement regarding the merger of our holdings, tied to your upcoming marital ties with Miss Benett.”

The mention of Eleanor Benett made my jaw tightened.

I had avoided the house, avoided my father, and avoided her.

My mother had ensured I didn't have to see her by getting me out immediately. But now, the obligation had caught up. I didn’t like it

“The Benett merger will not work.” I pronounced, leaning back in my chair. “And the marriage…”

I paused, my gaze sweeping over their faces. “I will not be marrying Eleanor Benett,” I finished, the finality of the statement hanging in the air.

A nervous clearing of a throat. “Matteo, son, you can’t be serious. This has been in the works for years. It secures the eastern sector!” My father’s voice cut though the tense silence

He was seated at the far end of the table, leaning heavily on a cane. He looked frail, but his eyes had the unforgiving edge to them as they looked upon mine

“I am entirely serious, Father,” I countered. It was the first time I hadn't flinched in his presence since Joe died. “I lost the only person I ever wanted to spend my life with. I have no interest in a politically expedient union that I’ve never desired in the first place. If the merger fails without it, we find another way to secure the sector.”

The board erupted into low-toned arguments, concerns about my mental state, about the loss of leverage, about the scandal of breaking an arranged marriage.

My father looked equally displeased. I could tell by the line of vein glowering on his temples.

“The meeting is dismissed. We shall discuss other terms later” I said, being the first to vacate the room

Marco was waiting by the heavy oak doors.

“The Benetts are here, sir. Miss Eleanor is in the drawing-room. Your father demanded you see her.”

I stopped dead in the marble foyer. I could still hear the echoes of the stake holder’s murmuring from indoors.

“Tell her I’m leaving,” I commanded, already moving toward the exit.

“Sir, she’s waiting. She insists.”

“And I insist, I’ll not see her Marco. Now, drive me to the cemetery. Need to pay â visit to Joe”