Matteo (2)

Merda, merda, merda.

          

          The servants rush out of the room.

          

          Santo grabs his plate and leaves the table without being asked. He even starts to laugh in his throat and gives me a stern look. "Thanks for the pancakes, Lulu."

          

          Matteo gives me a sad smile and grabs his plate in turn. "Grazie, Lulu."

      

      *

      *

      *

          

          I don't have time to realize what's happening when I find myself lying down with my back on the table. I cry out of surprise when Elio pulls me abruptly towards him, holding me firmly by the hips.

          

          Elio stands over me and calmly loosens his tie before coming to rest his closed fists on either side of my face.

          

          I hate my body's reaction. My heart is pounding. I feel no fear. Just excitement. Only the satisfaction of having Elio's attention all to myself.

          

          I have to get out of here.

          

          Elio comes and caresses my cheek with the tip of his nose. Then he bites my ear and releases it as soon as he hears me moan in pain. "Lo so" (I know it*), he comes to whisper coldly before putting a kiss against my temple.

          

          Merda.

      

      He doesn't need to say more. He knows about the photo.

          

          I have to close my eyes. I don't want to see the expression on his face. I'm terrified of what I'll find there.

          

          I have to leave.

          

          Elio lifts my thighs, so my feet rest on the table's edge. Then he puts a hand on my throat and leans against my crotch. "Dimmi la verità non mentire" (Tell me the truth, don't lie*)

          

          I can feel his growing erection and my body automatically responds. I let out a moan of pleasure. I curse the clothes that separate us. And I curse myself for having such thoughts.

          

          Elio stops moving for a moment. Then with his free hand, he pulls me even closer to him. "Why are you here, Amore Mio?"

I suddenly open my eyes, and what I see freezes my blood.

          

          He wears the expression of the family's Don. He wears it when he stifles his feelings to become a monster.

          

          "Santo has come for me," I answer in a whisper.

          

          I suddenly jump as Elio's fist slams into the side of my head.

      

      Silence settles between us, and it is disturbed only by the violent noise of his fist, which still resounds against the table.

          

          He sticks his forehead against mine, rage distorting his features. "And you came home for him? Or for that stronzo who dared to put his lips on what belongs to me?"

          

      His words have the effect of an icy shower on me. I let out a sigh while putting my hands on his forearms. I straighten up to find myself sitting, legs spread, and I finish tight against him. I press my temple against his pounding heart and nod. "It was a mistake," I whisper, letting my hands slide around his waist so I can hold him tighter. "I shouldn't have come home."

      

      Elio holds me so tightly between his arms that I feel like he's going to break my bones. "You're here now!"

      

      I lift my head to look at him. His gaze is icy, determined, and stubborn. I rest a hand against his cheek and let my thumb caress his lower jaw. "Accept the divorce, Sole mio. Let me go."

      

      Elio pulls away from me and kicks his chair roughly, sending the furniture flying across the room. He angrily runs his hands through his hair and doesn't look at me anymore. "You still haven't forgiven me? I thought this morning..."

      

      I cross my legs and put my hands on the table's edge. "I will never forgive you, sole mio."

      

      Elio finally raises his head and gives me a murderous look. He gets dangerously close to me and starts banging angrily on the surface of the wood, which cracks under the power of his blows.

      

      His hand is bleeding. I do not move. I let him unload his anger. Elio will never hurt me, at least never physically. I close my eyes as I hear him remove his belt. I can still hear the sound of his zipper and the rustle of the fabric of his pants.

      

      He spreads my legs and quickly pulls up the bottom of my dress. I help him by raising my buttocks slightly not to be restrained by the fabric. Finally, he draw my panties to the side before penetrating me in a sudden movement.

      

      I don't feel any pain, on the contrary, and that's the problem for the rest of my life. My body recognizes Elio and is always ready for him. I gently lay my head against his shoulder as he empties his desperate rage into me. I am dying to take him in my arms and kiss him. But I must resist. I must not give him more.

      

      I have to get out of here.

      

      I'm cursing myself as I feel the orgasm rising.

      

      Elio pours into me, and I cum in perfect symbiosis with him.

      

      He suddenly tenses up and pulls out with insults. I see the guilt in his eyes, but I say nothing. There is nothing more to say.

      

      Elio slaps the palm of his hands over his eyes and shakes his head. "Forgive me, Amore mio... I didn't mean to do this..."

I slide down from the table and readjust the bottom of my dress, smoothing the fabric over my thighs. I walk towards him, knowingly clicking my stilettos on the floor as I approach him.

      

      I stare at him as I zip up his pants and belt. "There's nothing left to forgive. Per te farei di tutto" (I'll do anything for you*) I whisper to him half-heartedly. Then, I go towards the exit of the dining room.

      

      As I open the doors, I see Santo and Matteo sitting with their empty plates at their feet. They give me a surprised look.

      

      As soon as I step into the room, I am lifted from behind. I immediately give a horrified look at Elio and frantically start hitting his forearms. "Let me go, Elio!"

      

      Santo and Matteo throw themselves forward toward me.

      

      Santo is the first to reach me. No sooner has he raised his hands to pull me out of his brother's arms than I see him flying backward. Elio's fist came out of nowhere and crashed into him at full speed.

      

      Matteo had just enough time to get behind him to catch him and prevent him from hurting himself further by hitting the ground.

      

      Merda.

      

      Elio roars: "You don't put your hands on my wife!"

      

      Santo glares at Elio and curtly pushes Matteo back. His lip bleeds, and he calmly wipes the blood that beads there. His eyes throw lightning by discovering the red there. Then he raises his hands to the level of his ears, fingers firmly clenched, a gesture so Italian: "But what do you want your wife to do to me, fratello mio?"

I could have laughed if it had been any other day. I might have celebrated the day the almighty Santo was finally taking a beating. But not in this situation.

      

      Elio finally puts me down and turns me to face him. He puts his hands on my shoulders and yells right under my nose. "Why did you come back when he came for you?"

      

      Merda. Does Elio think I have feelings for Santo? I have to put an end to this nonsense.

      

      I let out another sigh and looked at him coldly in turn. "You saw the picture. I didn't come here for Santo, nor the other man. Or maybe I did. I just came to prevent a man who isn't even worth it from losing his life."

      

      I am facing an enraged bull, but I don't move and continue to stare at him to show my determination.

      

      Matteo approaches me cautiously and pushes me gently behind him. "Elio, fratello mio, you must calm down..."

      

      He doesn't even have time to finish his sentence when a loud crack echoes through the room.

      

      Matteo staggers on the spot, a hand plastered on his bloody nose.

      

      I shudder as I see the few drops of blood splashed onto my hand.

      

      Elio points at Matteo and Santo: "Stai zitto" (Shut your mouths*) Then he starts to laugh darkly. "My own brothers... one who helps my wife run away from home, and the other who goes looking for her. Are you all fucking with me?"

      

      I immediately shot a horrified look at Matteo. I can see him blushing under the accusation of his elder brother.

      

      "Did you know?" asks Matteo, the shock visible on his facial expression.

      

      "Of course I did, ragazzo," Elio replies with contempt.

    

    Then he finally sees me shaking and immediately calms down. I try to clean the bloodstains on my skin by rubbing them frantically.

  

  Elio walks over to me and takes me in his arms. He gently strokes the back of his bloody hand over my cheek. He takes on the soft, coaxing tone he usually uses when it's just the two of us. "Luce dei miei occhi (light of my eyes*), look how good I've been to you for three years. Go away again, and I'll put a bullet between Matteo's eyes. I can forgive once, but not twice," he said, kissing my forehead. "That's not what you want, Amore mio, right?"

I quickly shake my head.

      

      Merda.

      

      Elio puts an arm around my shoulders and gives his brothers a beaming smile. Then he pulls me close to him and guides me to the office.

      

      When we reach Santo's level, Elio puts his hand on his shoulder and leans toward him. "Grazie, fratello mio. Look at the fucking smile on my lips from the arrangements you think you're making behind my back. Va bene, I'm in a great mood this morning, but I want the stronzo dead."

      

      I see Santo stiffen under the words spoken by his brother.

      

      I have to close my eyes for a moment, and I let him lead me to that office where I spent so much time.

      

      Since the beginning, we all dance in Elio's palm, and the agreement with Santo has ended.

  

  I am definitely back.