“Teach me then. Teach me how to defend myself.”
There was nothing hotter than my grey eyed wife, standing before me while asking for things like she had nothing to lose.
I couldn’t help but chuckle.
I had spent the night staring at the little Instagram post she made yesternight from our ride to the party.
My hand on her bare thigh, the black gown complementing my black suit.
Some photos were meant for aesthetic purposes. I knew the reason what that one meant.
But just one word kept replaying in my mind.
Mine.
I let out a low chuckle. “You think you can just demand for something, and I would simply hand it to you on a silver platter?”
A part of me admired her boldness, her refusal to cower for her mother, and in the face of the storm that was our marriage.
But another part of me knew better.
Her jaw tightened, and she took a step closer. “I’m not asking you to hand me anything, Matteo. I’m asking you to teach me how to protect myself,” She said. “Everyone talks about how being the wife to a mafia don is dangerous, yet no one is teaching me how to protect myself.”
I felt the heat rising between us, a mix of frustration and something else – something I wasn’t ready to attach a name to.
“Teaching you would be me going back on my vows….”
“What vows?” She asked without a flinch. “You were supposed to come to my room. You never did. You avoid me like a plague. You wouldn’t me look for my sister.”
I could see the determination in her eyes, and for a moment, I almost considered it.
If my mom had basic skills, what happened never would have happened.
Teaching Valentina was a way to avenge her. But no matter how strong she claimed to be, she was too fragile.
“I’m not going to teach you, Valentina,” I said finally, my voice firm. “You don’t belong in this world, and I would do my best not to drag you into it anymore than I already have.”
“But Isabella….” She tried to argue.
“This conversation is over.”
I turned away from her, dismissing her with a finality that I hoped would end the discussion.
“You’re just like her, you know,” she said, her voice laced with bitterness. “She thought she could control everything, but one day, she lost control. And she ran away. I doubt you would have that option.”
I couldn’t turn back.
Despite how much I wanted to.
She was right, of course. The thought of losing control was the one thing keeping me focused right now.
And to clear my head, I went for the one thing I always did monthly.
A game of chess with my half brother.
The drive to the Nevarro Hall was a short one, but it felt longer than usual.
The conversation with Valentina lingered in my kind, gnawing at me like a persistent itch I couldn’t scratch.
I tried to push it aside, focusing on the game instead. Chess was one of the few things that allowed me to clear my head, think strategically without the mess of emotions getting in the way.
“Running late today, brother. Love must be in the air.”
Luca was waiting for me in the patio, the chessboard already set up. The smirk playing on his lips was enough to infuriate me further.
I shot him a glare as I took my seat.
Dark green eyes fueled with amusement. Luca was as pretty as they came. Most boys were called handsome, but he was beautiful.
He loved to needle me about my bethrotal when we were younger, as if it was some kind of joke. There was nothing funny about it.
He was also one of the few people who knew about the switch.
“Just get one with the game, Luca,” I said, my tone sharper than intended.
He raised a carefully arched eyebrow, but didn’t press further. Instead he moved his first piece, the rotten smirk never leaving his face. We played in silence for a while, the only sound in the room the clink of pieces on the board.
My mind kept drifting back to Valentina. Her insistence to add Isabella to whatever conversation we chose to have, as if that was a way to persuade me.
The sooner she knew I didn’t give a fuck about Isabella, the better for her.
“Your mind’s not in it today,” Luca said, breaking the silence as he captured one of my knights – a move I should have seen. “Care to share?”
“Just play,” I snapped.
He leaned back in his chair, studying me with those sharp, calculating eyes. Father’s eyes.
Dad had made us play chess for as long as I could remember as a way to make sure we remained bonded.
If anything we were further apart than we had been years ago. But we still played.
“You know, Matteo. It’s okay to talk about what you’re struggling with,” he said casually, as if we were talking about the weather. “You married your betrothed younger sister. That has got to be rough.”
“It’s not rough.” I replied curtly, moving a piece without thinking.
Luca’s smirk widened. “Of course not. The great Matteo Nevarro never has anything rough. But if you need to talk, you know where to find me.”
The last thing I would do was to talk about my relationship with Luca.
I didn’t respond. Instead, I focused on the game trying to regain control.
But Luca had the upper hand now, and he knew it. It took him seconds to declare checkmate.
“Looks like I win this round,” he said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Better luck next time, brother.”
I stood up, more than ready to leave. “Same time next month?”
“Of course.”
****
I should have stayed for a second game of chess with Luca to redeem myself but that wouldn’t work.
I was far too tired to win anything today.
It took me a minute to realize something was amiss.
Since Valentina came into the estate, it had never been quiet. But now, the door to my room was slightly open and the house was eerily quiet.
The kind of quiet that sets your nerves on edge.
Plus, I never left my room door open when I knew no one would guard it.
I glimpsed blond hair as I pushed open the door, crossed the room in two long strides, and pinned the intruder to the wall with my hand wrapped around their throat.
Icy rage turned my vision to a red tinged white.
I did not appreciate people in my personal space. Touching my things without my permission.
My fingers flexed around the soft part of their throat.
“Matteo,” the familiarity of the soft plea turned my red tinged vision until all I could see was gray.
Huge, beautiful gray eyes, framed by long lashes and filled with panic.
Fuck.
An arctic splash of recognition wrenched my hand from her throat.
“What are you doing in here?” I asked, my voice coming out harsher than I intended.
Sue didn’t answer immediately, her gaze dropping to the floor while she massaged her throat. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, measured. “I didn’t want to wait till morning.”
“For what?”
“For you to decide what you’re going to do with me.”
Her words caught me off guard, and I felt a pang of guilt twist in my gut. Valentina had always been straightforward, never one to play games. But the way she was looking at me now, with that quiet determination, made me realize that she was done waiting for me to make the next move.
“Valentina, I-” I started, but she cut me off.
“I need to learn how to do this, Matteo. You refused to help me, but I can’t just sit around and do nothing. I can’t keep living like this, always waiting for her to appear.”
I dragged my eyes up to hers. “At nine in the night?”
“It just seemed like the right time.”
“You don’t belong in this world,” I said finally, the words coming out more like a plea than a statement. “You’re not like us, Valentina. Stick to just being the trophy wife.”
“Isabella would never be a trophy wife.” She shot back, her voice raising.
“Well, you’re not Isabella, and you would never be Isabella.”
I raised my voice at her.
I never raised my voice at anyone.