Chapter 65 Sixty five
Elena's POV
My father and Celia came in the afternoon. The fancy room made them look small and cheap as Matteo calgreeted them. He was calm and perfect.
"Thank you for coming," he said, his voice warm.
My father rushed forward, grabbing Matteo's hand. "Don Matteo. Thank you. To save our Elena... we are in your debt." His relief was for himself, not me.
Celia touched Matteo's arm. "Our girl, a Don's wife. It's a blessing."
They thanked him for saving me from the monster, not knowing he was a worse one. Matteo played his part. He was humble. He said it was his duty. He never looked at me.
I sat by the window. I didn't stand or speak. I felt like ice.
My father finally came to me. He sat and leaned close, his breath sour. "Be grateful," he whispered. "He is handsome and young. Smile. Don't ruin this."
I turned and looked at him. I looked at the man who sold me. I said nothing.
He got uncomfortable, patted my knee, and went back to flattering Matteo.
The visit was short. As they left, Celia broke away and grabbed my arm, her nails digging in. Her smile was fake, her eyes hard.
"Don't ruin this with your pride," she hissed. "You won. Now act like it. Be what he wants, or you'll regret it."
She let go and followed my father out. The door closed.
I was finally alone. I walked out to the terrace to take a deep breath and somehow find the good in this situation but I couldn't. I bent over the railing as a sudden bout of nausea hit me. It was violent and loud and my body shook violently as I heaved. I chalked it up to my body throwing up the poison of the last hour.
When it was over, I stayed there, breathing hard.
I couldn't help but think about her parting words: "I had won". I couldn't help but scoff loudly, I had won a handsome jailer, a rich prison because of her son's mistakes. Mistakes that had no bearing whatsoever with me but now I am wholly suffering the consequences.
My family's betrayal was the final weight and It crushed the last tie to who I was. That Elena was gone.
I straightened up and turned.
Matteo stood in the doorway, watching. His face showed nothing.
I walked past him without a look. I went upstairs to the bedroom, my cell. I sat on the bed and stared at the wall. The fight wasn't gone. It had turned cold and quiet. I waited.
Matteo's POV
I had them brought here. It was necessary. They were as I expected: pathetic.
Her father, weak and guilty. Celia, a vulture in cheap clothes. They repulsed me.
They thanked me. They thought I was their savior. The irony was bitter.
She sat like stone through it all. Her silence was loud. Her father whispered to her. I saw the last bit of hope in her eyes die.
Celia cornered her at the end. I saw the grip on her arm, the whispered threat.
When they were gone, she walked to the terrace. I followed. I needed to see.
I watched her be sick over the railing. Her body rejected it all. Of me. Of them. Of this life.
This was her victory. Getting sick on a terrace.
She turned and saw me. Her eyes were hollow. She walked past me like I was part of the wall.
I stayed on the terrace. I had done this. I built every part of the trap. Now even the other rats congratulated her for being caught.
The heat that was between us was dead and buried killed first by me, then her family's s whisper and finally her own sickness.
All that was left was simple: I was her captor who deceived her thoroughly and she was the captive who fell for my ploys and love bombing.
I couldn't ask for her love because anything else was a weakness for her and she's determined to stay strong and detached from me.
I had no other option than to work. She would not welcome my presence or care right now so, I went to my desk to work.
The wedding will definitely happen tomorrow. The dress, the priest, the guests and all necessary preparations were ready.
Everything was going to plan.
My perfect, terrible plan.
Upstairs, the woman I broke sat on my bed. She had nothing left to lose.
No family.
No hope.
No soft feeling for me.
They say the most dangerous person is the one with nothing left to lose.
Tomorrow, I would make her my wife. I would put a ring on the finger of the most dangerous person in my world. I wanted a weapon now, I made one with betrayal. Now I had to see if I could hold her without getting cut.
The quiet in the house was no longer peace. It was the calm before a storm. And I had just handed the lightning to the woman upstairs.