Chapter 2: CHAPTER TWO

MIRABELLA.

Wanting to take a glimpse of yourself through a mirror is a desire to see yourself through your own eyes.

Looking at my reflection, I am not content with myself. I am no longer myself. I am now a different person, trying to be someone whom I’m not.

This illusion—the make up, the dress, the jewelry, my eyes, it’s all so disgusting. A lie. My sister and father have successfully made me into a clone, but I’m not about to make this easy for them.

They need me and it’s obvious. So this? This might be their game, but they’d have to play by my rules.

Lost in thought, my nervous fingers tug at the straps of my extravagant dress, ripping them off. The dress pools at my ankles. I step out of it. The heavy makeup plastered across my face is the next thing I discard.

In my moment of absentmindedness, I begin to wonder how long my father has had this plan thought out. There has to be something he’s not telling me.

Could this be the reason he made certain I never got introduced to the underworld? Because he didn’t want people knowing he has two daughters who are inexplicably identical?

Because he intended on using me when I became an adult?

It had to be, considering how meticulous he was in making sure I remained hidden.

But why me?

“What is keeping you so long, Mirabella,” the door to my room swings open. I eye my father through the mirror.

Of course he’s boiling in rage, seeing that I changed out of his perfectly planned outfit into something more comfortable and lightened up my makeup.

“This is not how Annabella would be dressed for this dinner,” he grits through his teeth and I scoff.

“Quite unfortunate that I’m not Annabella. Didn’t you say he knows little or nothing about her? Well, I’m certain he’ll observe nothing.”

“Don’t push—”

“We’re late father.” I shove him aside and walk out the door.

Like I said; their game, my rules.

I walk into the restaurant hand in hand with my father and as we approach the private area, I spot my soon to be husband’s silhouette, perfectly seated at the head of the table in the dimly lit room.

My heart begins pounding hard against my ribcage the moment we connect eyes and I fidget with the hem of my dress.

My father pulls out a chair for me to sit by Matteo’s corner as I exchange pleasantries with his parents who seem very friendly and welcoming.

“You’re late. And one would think you were making an effort to look good,” Matteo’s deep intimidating voice reverberates in my spine and I suck in a breath, turning around to find him leaning forward, exposing himself to more lighting and I begin taking in his features.

One would think that a man with a reputation such as Matteo’s would be disgusting to look at but that is not the case. This man seated by my side, looking at me disgustingly with his extremely intimidating hazel eyes is a very breathtaking man.

If there is another word greater than beautiful, that’d be the word most suitable to describe this man. His shirt unbuttoned, his inked chest out in the open, broad shoulders, Adam’s apple bopping, perfect, full red lips, chiseled jaw…...

“Are you going to say something? Or are going to keep gawking at me the entire night?”

Matteo is a beautiful man for certain but he’s annoying and I see that he loves disrespecting and putting people down.

With a clear to my throat, I relax better on my seat and begin digging into my plate knowing well that I just ignored my so called fiancée; and of course his eyes are burning holes through me.

Powerful men like him; they hate the taste of their own medicine.

After we’ve finished with the main dish, I immediately fall into a conversation with Matteo’s mother and sister ‘Maria and Julia’; very friendly duo and I ask myself how Maria was able to conceive someone such as Matteo.

Someone so withdrawn, someone whose presence can make one shiver; just the way the whole room feels so uncomfortably cold because of his demeanor.

How am I supposed to live with this man for six months?

I finally excuse myself to use the restroom after I’ve had enough of Matteo’s intimidating eyes tearing me down and cursing me out even when his lips has said nothing.

The instant I stand in front of the mirror in the restroom, my hands grip onto the marble counter tightly as I shudder. I release all the tension I didn’t realize I was holding in and the feeling is exhilarating.

“You seem nervous,” that familiar deep voice echoes in my ears and almost immediately the restroom door jams shut with two clicks to it and my heart goes ballistic. Sweat immediately trickling from my forehead and I continue swallowing on nothing.

Matteo holds my gaze through the mirror for some time before quirking a brow, nudging me to speak. I gulp and turn around to face him and he crouches down; his eyes narrowing into slits as though he’s attempting to observe my facial features and I immediately return my gaze to the ground.

“I-isn’t it normal for a bride to get nervous once her big day is nearing?”

Matteo chuckles dryly and starts motioning towards me. With each step he takes towards me, I take the same step backward until my back is against the marble counter and hums. “Except that bride wanted this wedding so desperately.”

“Don’t you want it? Matteo?”

“Oh you have no idea Annabella, the idea of getting married repulses me. And you, I detest you for agreeing to this; but if you could make a deal with me,” his fingertips trails across my cleavage and I back myself up more into the counter as if an exit would magically appear. “You’re the only person capable of ending this absurd arrangement, whatever you want, just name it and it’ll be yours. But I need you to go out there and call off this bullshit.”

Yes Matteo, there’s nothing more I’d love to do than that but I cannot; I could lose my life.

“You’re too close Matteo,” I whisper. My gaze remaining on the ground, how could I ever meet my eyes with the eyes of this intimidating man; I’ll be made to naught immediately.

“You had no complaints the other time Annabella.”

What? The other time? What happened the other time? Why was this part of their meeting kept away from me?

Think Mirabella, think.

“Look at me for a second Annabella,” Matteo orders and I slowly bring my gaze up to meet his. He holds my jaw for a minute while looking into my eyes as though searching for something, and when it finally feels like he found what he seems to be searching for, he let out a scoff and gives his head a slight nod.

Matteo moves out of the way and gestures me towards the door. And as I twist the door knob, he says something that stops me in my tracks. “Mirabella?”

He calls out in a way that seems like he knows who I truly am. I halt my movement as a cold sensation takes possession of me but I do not dare look back at him or even say a word; and from where I’m standing, I can hear him chuckle like a maniac.

“Isn’t that your twin? I’m sure you’re wondering how I know about her but shouldn’t I at least get familiar with all the members of my wife’s family?” He tsks. “Will she be in attendance? You know at our wedding.”

I twist the door knob and pull the door wide open before answering, “I’m certain she has more important things to concern herself with.”

Yes Matteo, she’ll not just be in attendance, she’s going to be your wife; dumb fuck.

I hurriedly storm out of the restroom but I hear Matteo muttering ‘sure she does’ before letting out a very disturbing laugh; and I immediately know that every rumor about him is true.

He’s a maniac.

A psychotic maniac.

After dinner with the Denaro’s, Matteo opted to drive me home saying ‘I should learn to care for my wife after all’.

After hours of being on the road and having Matteo tease me in the most annoying way possible, he finally brings his car to a halt in front of my family’s mansion and as I open the car door, I’m met with my boyfriend Simon, who seems to be drunk out of his mind and screaming my name frantically until he spots me.

I immediately dismiss Matteo and rush out of the car, slamming the door shut before Simon can say anything that might land me in trouble.

“Baby,” Simon hiccups, “I’ve been waiting here all evening; tell me the text you sent wasn’t true. You didn’t send that text, did you? How can you ever break up and inform me of your wedding through a text. It’s so unlike you.” He slurs.

I go to ask him how he found me but Matteo’s voice cuts me short. “Is there a problem here? Wife?” Simon looks up at him and back at me and I tightly shut my eyes, hoping that this is a nightmare and someone will just wake me up.

“Wife? Wife? So it is true then? How can you do this to me, to us,” Simon grits through his teeth as he stretches his arm out to reach for me but I push back “You’re probably looking for my sister but she’s not home. I’m sure if you went to her Lab-” I get cut off my Simon, “I’m not looking for anyone else, it is you Mira-” he gets cut off by a bullet in his head and almost immediately another to his heart.

A loud gasp tears out of my throat and I shudder.

I dive my bottom lip viciously to stop myself from screaming and fist my dress on both sides to stop myself from reaching for the lifeless body of my boyfriend.

“He was beginning to piss me off with the too much talking and slurring and I love some peace and quiet, wife.” Matteo chuckles like a man who has no grasp on reality as he tucks back his gun into his waist band and almost immediately my father appears out of nowhere, questioning me about what happened but I’m unable to get any word out.

I’m frozen in place, watching my boyfriend’s body as tears brim my eyes. It is one thing to lose someone so dear to you in this manner and it is another thing being unable to grief in the way you should because you’re pretending to be someone else.

I am playing the role of Annabella an assassin; how could I ever show any emotion because of a dead person whom I’m not supposed to know?

“Get into the house, now,” my father orders in whisper and I nod my response.

“Why do you seem so distraught? Aren’t you the infamous assassin Annabella?” Matteo asks from behind and I gulp.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I breath out.

“Why not?”

“That’s my sister’s boyfriend, how do I tell her that her boyfriend was killed by my husband to be right in front of our house.” I shudder and begin walking into the house without looking back.

I really want to look back but I cannot; for some reason, I don’t want my cover to be blown.

“I didn’t think you cared so much for your sister,” I hear Matteo’s faded voice as I walk into the living area of the mansion.

I’m definitely in for a rough ride.