Chapter 12: CHAPTER TWELVE

MATTEO.

“Get over here! Come here and prove to me that you’re worthy of this empire!” Grandfather commands and I fall to my knees.

I’m shaking my head vigorously, tears running down my face uncontrollably as I sob. “Please, pa, don’t make me do this,” I plead.

I am now at Grandfather’s feet, at his fucking mercy and I grasp both his ankles as I continue to beg him. My father is being held down by a few men in a corner, my mother hugging my five-year-old sister in another corner.

My life flashes before my own eyes. I can’t bring myself to do what grandfather is asking of me. Never.

The butt of a gun slams against my forehead over and over again until my blood is spewing uncontrollably but I do not quit begging. With each slam to my forehead, my plea becomes louder.

“Matteo, fratellino; it’s okay, I understand. Go ahead and do it,” my eldest sister says in between her sobs and I shake my head ‘no’.

Her voice keeps taunting me and I can no longer take it. “Stai zitto per l'amor di Dio!” I scream at my beautiful, beautiful sister.

Maria; she has my mother’s name.

Grandfather tsks and in a split second, he pulls his trigger and my eyes almost follow the bullet. My father’s scream is heard and his body hits the ground with a thud.

I clench my jaw so tight and grind my teeth so hard that my head begins shaking uncontrollably. “Cazzo,” I whisper breathily and attempt running over to my father when Grandfather’s voice echoes.

“You’ll do as I’ve commanded else, instead of three, you’d end up losing four loved ones here today. And it is going to be your fault Matteo for being a scared little bitch.”

Grandfather laughs and his men mirror his action. They’re taunting me in every despicable way possible and I finally cave.

I pick up the gun and aim it at Bianca’s head, she nods at me once and my eyes slam shut when I click the trigger.

I hear one of Grandfather’s men snort a laugh and that is all I need to go completely insane. I click the trigger two more times and charge toward the man full force. I put him in a choke hold and tighten my grip around his neck so hard his eyes look like they’re about to pop out of their sockets.

“Tell me why you’re laughing!” I slam my fist against his jaw hard enough to break it and he screams like a fucking bitch.

“Tell me!”

Slam.

“Stupido!”

Slam.

“Coglione!”

Slam.

Gunshots go off three times in a row and I halt my action as my eyes go wide.

I jerk awake and I find myself on top of Mirabella’s petite body. Only I’m not fucking her. I have her in a chokehold, strangling her like my Goddamned life depends on it; must be the nightmare.

It’s a great surprise that she isn’t awake, she’s very much asleep but not at peace in any form. It’s almost funny how I’m strangling her and she’s clawing at my face; even when I let her go, she’s still clawing at my face as her toes curl into the sheets.

For whatever reason it is, I find myself unable to move or get off Mirabella’s body. I watch her like a hawk as she mumbles words that I’m unable to phantom.

She’s also going through her own phase of nightmares.

I admit, it is extremely dangerous having two traumatized people on the same bed.

We’ll fucking kill each other if we continue sharing one bed.

Fuck.

I lightly slap my wife’s face in a way of waking her up and her body goes calm. I take the opportunity to get off her and out of bed, immediately taking a walk to the far corner of the room and sitting on the cushion.

I watch Mirabella as she gently wakes up and stays silent for a bit. The next minute has me wondering if I’m married to a mad woman when her laughter echoes through the room. She laughs hysterically as loud as her voice can get and all I can do is scoff at the sight.

A time arrives in one’s life when they’ve gone through so much pain, so much so they grow tired of crying and complaining. It is that time that gives birth to a part of us, a part that feels the need to laugh about everything; but that laughter can only signify the tears we’re no longer able to cry.

I’ve become more curious about my wife’s story now more than ever, seeing that we share one thing in common. Trauma.

“There’s not a moment of peace in my life!” She screams out loud and kicks her legs into the air.

Mirabella’s body comes to an immediate halt when she rolls over to my own end of the bed. She stays put for a minute before heaving out a sigh. “Great! That ugly, broken, mad son of a bitch is out of here.” She seethes as she climbs out of bed and walks straight to the mirror.

Who observes themselves in front of a mirror in the middle of the night after waking from a nightmare?

My fucking wife.

She completely takes off her eye mask and I swear I almost get down on my knees and worship those eyes of hers. The dead ice-cold iris shines in the dimly lit room and the emerald green one has its own uniqueness to it.

Both her irises complement each other pretty well.

Who the fuck took their time in creating such a goddess?

Lord help me that I survive through this marriage.

I go to speak but Mirabella takes me by surprise when she grabs the hem of her top and pull it over her head.

Jesus Christ.

My wife plans to render me useless all in one night.

God those breasts. Not too big but big enough to fill my palm and ask for more space to fit in. So tight and perky; and the way it bounces ever so slightly when she moves.

The room is dimly lit but my eyesight has suddenly become sharp.

Fucking hell; I want to get my hands on those nipples. Trust I’d do a good job on them.

I guess I should become a better husband if I ever want to get an opportunity to hold those perfectly sculpted breasts.

“That is quite the opinion you have of me,” This is not what I want to say but I open my mouth and it is what comes out.

I almost lose my balance when I stand up and stalk over to Mirabella.

She’s freaking out and I know, seeing that her hands are trembling vigorously. Something that happens whenever she’s caught off guard.

I wouldn’t fault her for freaking out, considering the fact that she has to conceal her identity which would mean that I’m not supposed to see her eyes. And right now she has to figure out a way and conceal both her breasts and her eyes.

Fucking cover the tits and let me look into those heavenly eyes.

Mirabella allows herself to sag onto the ground and curls herself into a ball. I take a few steps back when she bursts out sobbing very loudly.

My wife is a crazy woman.

“Did I say something wrong?” I question her with concern laced in my voice.

I truly am concerned.

Mirabella continues sobbing and I suddenly realize why she’s such a mess.

Finally, my brain goes into full function.

I scoff. I fucking scoff.

How stupid do I have to be? She obviously feels violated and I scoff.

Wow!

“Get out!” She screams. “You perverted son of a bitch! Why did you watch me take off my shirt? You couldn’t even alert me that you were here, idiota.”

I chuckle and a small laugh is evident in my chuckle. I immediately conceal it with the most stupid thing to say to someone whom I’ve just met at a time when they’re most vulnerable.

“Jesus Bella, don’t be so dramatic.” I snicker as I walk out of the room.

Great. You ass-eating selfish, idiotic son of a bitch.

Mirabella’s words are starting to rub off on me; fucking hell.

I should stay away from her for a few days until I’m able to think with my head rather than my fucking cock.