TWO

MATTEO

"Matteo, get down here."

My father's annoying voice was layered with impatientce as it floated up the stairs.

"We leave in five minutes or we will both be late to your damn wedding."

My hands fumbled with the tie for the third time till I finally got it straight.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing the man in the white

This was really happening.

I was getting married to a random man my father had chosen for me today.

I hadn't even bothered to check, to find out how my groom looked or his age.

I had convinced myself that it didn't matter neither did I care about those details.

But deep down in my mind, I knew that it wasn't true—I wish I knew.

"Look boy, if you don't get down this minute I will have to drag you down!"

I shut my eyes tightly, sighing at my father's words while rubbing my temple gently.

He was never patient.

"Let's do this," I said as I spared one last glance at myself in the looking glass.

Then, I turned away and headed out of the room with my feet as heavy as lead.

I managed to walk down the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last.

My father was waiting for me at the bottom with a dissatisfied look on his face.

The critical gaze he swept over me from head to toe irked me greatly.

"You look acceptable," he said.

I said nothing.

"Let's go."

Outside, the chauffeur held the car door open and I slid into the back seat.

My Father settled in beside me.

The door closed with a thunk that sounded too much like a cell door locking.

Was I headed to a new cage?

I looked back at my famy house as the car pulled away from the estate.

Something tightened in my chest as tears began to gather around my eyes.

I pushed them back, just as I forced myself to look away and stay still in my seat.

My father noticed my movements, shaking his head in disappointment with a tsk.

"Remember what I told you."

I glanced at him.

He was adjusting his cufflinks.

"You will be polite and cooperative."

I nodded.

"Take care that you do not embarrass me in front of Alessandro De Luca or his any of his business associates. Is that understood?"

I swallowed softly.

"Yes, Father."

He looked up at me.

His gaze burned deep into my broken soul, squeezing everything in me tighter.

A lump formed in my throat.

"This alliance is crucial to our survival," he continued to say, looking away.

I kept watching him.

"From here on, everything depends on you not ruining this Matteo. Do you understand what is at stake here?" He asked.

His eyes met mine again.

I lowered my gaze.

"Yes, Father."

His voice continued, listing expectations and warnings I had to adhere to.

But the words slowly began to blur into background noise as my mind faded.

I turned my face away from him and toward the window, watching the city pass by.

Why was I even here?

My mind instantly travelled back to three days ago as I let myself remember.

My father called me to his office and told me I would wed Alessandro De Luca.

My world had crumbled before my eyes.

"I can't do that!" I had screamed at him in panic, standing abruptly.

Dizziness had stolen me.

If I hadn't been gripping the edge of the chair I might have fallen to the ground.

No one urged me to sit back down.

It had taken a moment for me to regain back the composure I had lost.

"There will be no marriage father."

He pressed his lips into a thin line.

"You will marry whosoever I tell you to Matteo. It's an order not a choice."

His voice let me know that this decision he was announcing had been set in stone.

I swallowed, my breathing growing more ragged with each passing minute.

"No, I can't do that," I protested, shaking my head vehemently.

My voice rose a notch.

"I am not gay."

My father's expression didn't change.

"You can't expect me to just marry some man I have never met. That is insane."

I had seen his jaw clench tightly.

He slammed his fist on the table.

"Whether you are gay or not gay is rather irrelevant here! This is business."

His eyes seared into mine in the tension as the veins in his neck jutted out.

"Now, get out of here and go prepare for the wedding," he snarled at me in a warning voice. "You do not have much time."

"I won't do it."

I had stood up—carefully this time—my chair scraping back against the floor.

"Find another way father!"

His face flushed with his fist shaking on top the table as he squinted at me.

"Sell something or take a fucking loan. I don't care! But I'm not doing this."

I inhaled and exhaled.

My gaze narrowed.

“I will not marry a man!”

His lips immediately pressed together with a slight frown.

"Then Sofia dies."

The words were so calm that as a matter of fact it took me a moment to register it.

My eyes widened.

"What?"

"You heard me."

He lowered his brows.

"If you refuse this marriage, I'll have her life support disconnected by tomorrow morning."

My jaw dropped to my feet.

“Sofia will die.”

The lingering tears sitting idly in my eyes that had been threatening to fall instantly resurfaced.

"You don't mean that."

A dry scoff left his lips.

“Watch me.”

I gasped, clutching my chest.

No!

He couldn't do that to Sofia.

“You will not!” I snapped, blinking the tears that had started to fall away. “She is your daughter! Your blood!”

I was yelling now.

Desperate.

He quirked a brow.

"You think I won't? Because she's my daughter?”

He chuckled.

“Look here Matteo, I can't keep paying for her hospital bills when I am fast going into debt. You marry him or I will."

My heart constricted.

He would kill her.

I just knew it.

"You'll do this Matteo, or she will die, because of you—pathetic."

He leaned back in his chair.

“No, please father.”

I swallowed.

"Her bills are expensive, Matteo."

He pursed his lips.

"Besides I can't afford to keep her alive without this alliance anyway. At least this way, your refusal will have purpose—her useless life."

My legs went weak.

I gripped the edge of his desk.

"Please, don't."

I shook my head.

"Try me."

He looked at me and I knew he definitely would—I saw it in his eyes.

Sofia too was just another burden to him, another expense he always resented.

He had always been looking for an excuse to let her go quietly for years.

But what hurt me the most was the fact that the secret I had buried so deep threatened to now claw its way out of its shell.

I wasn't gay.

But I wasn't straight either.

I had known since I was sixteen and had hidden it from everyone, especially him.

The thought of being attracted to men had always felt like handing another weapon to my father to use against me.

I was right because now he was forcing me into a marriage with an unknown man.

"Do we have an agreement?" Father asked.

What choice did I have?

Sofia's face flashed in my mind, pale and peaceful in that hospital bed.

She was in comatose but the pain of seeing her and missing her ate away at me.

How would I feel if she were gone?

I couldn't risk knowing that.

I couldn't bear to lose her.

"Yes," I whispered. "I'll do it."

"Good."

My shoulders hunched.

"The ceremony is in three days. And about your groom, you'll meet him at the altar."

The last three days had passed me by in a blur of tailors, paperwork, suit fitting and this suffocating dread I still felt.

I was jerked back to the present by a hand tapping lightly on my shoulder.

"Stop daydreaming," my father snapped as he stared down at ms. "We're here."

I looked out the window to see that a small chapel stood before us.

It was elegant and looked private.

This was definitely the kind of place where inconvenient marriages quietly took place.

The chauffeur opened my door.

I stepped out and instantly began to stretch my legs which were stiff from the journey.

My father took a step closer to me in order to straighten my tie one last time.

Though, his fingers were rough.

"Do not botch this alliance."

I groaned, internally.

"No matter what happens in there, you smile and you comply. Understood?"

I nodded as he stepped back.

"Has the cat got your tongue?" He asked me sarcastically with a light hiss.

"Understood."

"Come on, let's go," he said as he turned away from me, hands in his pocket.

We walked toward the chapel entrance as my heart hammered against my ribs.

Anger, numbness and resignation warred inside me as we stepped through the doors and into the small ceremony room.

It was kind of intimate with soft lighting and barely a dozen chairs in place.

A simple altar stood at the front.

And standing there, dressed in a navy blue suit that fit him perfectly, was the groom.

I gasped when our eyes met because it was him—the man from that night.