Matteo
Fuck this party.
The polished marble floors gleamed under the dim lighting, reflecting the opulence that oozed from every corner of the room. The hall was filled with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the low hum of violins playing in the background.
Yet, none of it registered.
Not the extravagant floral arrangements, not the sharp scent of cigars lingering in the air, and not the woman draped on my arm, her hand resting on my forearm as though she owned me.
“Smile, darling,” She whispered, her crimson lips barely moving as she scanned the room with sharp eyes. “You look like you’d rather be somewhere else.”
She wasn’t wrong.
Annalise, my latest fiancee, had perfected the role of the doting partner for tonight’s charade. Her calculated smiles and false sweetness grated on my nerves. She was who my father thought Isabella would be and who he hoped Valentina would be… a high society princess who would only elevate the Nevarro name even higher.
Her presence was like a thorn embedded deep beneath my skin. But for what I hoped to achieve after losing Valentina, she would have to do.
“Let go of me.” I muttered under my breath, my voice cutting through her practiced charm.
Her grip tightened for the briefest second before she released me, her expression smoothing into an unreadable mask. “Don’t cause a scene, darling.” She hissed through her teeth, the corners of her smile still fixed in place for anyone watching.
I didn’t bother responding.
My eyes found the reason I was here tonight. For years, my sole mission had been one thing until Valentina came into my life. With her out of it, I could focus on what needed to be done.
My father, Pedro Nevarro, stood a few steps away, engrossed in conversation with old associates. Seeing him out of a wheelchair and outside the confines of the old Nevarro estate should have stirred something within me… relief, perhaps, or anger. Instead, I felt nothing but annoyance at the fact that he had lived this long without some karma from the things he had done. Beside him, my stepmother hovered like a hawk, laughing when appropriate to jokes that weren’t funny.
She would probably try her best to talk to those men later on. Endear her lovely son to them.
And yet, it wasn’t them who held my attention tonight.
My eyes darted toward the far end of the room, where the guest of honour stood. Bianca Castellano. The elusive wife of one of my father’s oldest friends.
For years, Bianca had remained hidden… a ghost in the shadows, whispered about but never seen. And now, her presence drawing as much attention as the gilded chandeliers overhead. Bianca was an enigma. Her pale, fragile frame and weary eyes hinted at a life lived under duress, yet her demeanor betrayed strength… a survivor cloaked in elegance.
I made my way toward her, ignoring the stares that followed. The low murmur of the crowd faded into the background as I approached, my heart hammering with questions that had haunted me for years.
“Hello godmother,” I said smoothly, inclining my head in greeting. “I don’t believe we’ve held a discussion today.”
Her eye flickered to mine, and for a moment, I saw something flicker in her eyes… sadness? Fear? It vanished too quickly to think too much about it.
“Matteo Nevarro!” She exclaimed, her voice softer than I remembered. “You look just like your mother, but you have your father’s charm, I see.”
I ignored the remark. “I was hoping we could have a word. In private.”
Her smile faltered, the faintest crack in her composed exterior. She hesitated before nodding, gesturing toward a quieter corner of the room. As we moved, I felt Annalise’s eyes boring into the back of my head, but I didn’t turn around.
Let her huff and puff to wherever my father was and report this to him. I did not care.
Once we were alone, the mask Bianca wore slipped slightly. Her hands trembled as she clasped them in front of me, and stared at every other part of the corner but at me.
What are you hiding, Bianca?
“What do you want, Matteo?” she asked with a tone that was barely audible.
“Answers,” I said bluntly. “About my mother.”
For a second, I was scared she lost the ability to breathe as she stopped completely after taking a step back as though I had struck her. When she finally spoke up, her eyes had hardened and her words were blunt.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You do.” Matter of fact without waiting for the other shoe to drop. “I’ve spent years piecing together fragments of her life, trying to understand what had happened prior to the shoot out that night. I’ve spent years waiting for you to come back to society after you conveniently claimed a mental illness two days after her death. And you…” I leaned closer, my tone sharp. “You were her closest friend. Don’t tell me any bullshit lies.”
Bianca’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she shook her head. “There are things that should be left buried in this world. Don’t ruin your chances.”
“I don’t have that luxury,” I snapped. “Tell me what she was like in her final days. Was someone after her? Did she know she was in danger?”
I sacrificed the love of my life to get to where I was right now, so she better start confessing.
She turned away, her shoulders trembling. “Your mother…” her voice cracked, and she pressed a hand to her mouth. “Your father didn’t deserve such a woman. A light in a world full of darkness attracting those shadows. Powerful families.”
“Give me a name.”
She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she closed her eyes, as though summoning the strength to speak. “It wasn’t just one person, Matteo. There were many who wanted her gone. Simply for the fact that she was married to Pedro Nevarro. Especially after all their plots to get their children with him.”
Those were things I knew already but getting a confirmation from Bianca hit me like a blow to the chest. My mother wasn’t the most perfect of beings, but she was the best mother in the world. To hear that my father had been her downfall when she didn’t even want the man filled me with a toxic mix of rage and sorrow.
Before I could press her further, Bianca’s head snapped up, her eyes locking onto something… or someone… behind me. Her face paled, and a guttural scream tore from her throat.
What the fuck?
I spun around, my heart racing as most of Bianca’s men rushed towards us.
The devil’s mother herself.
My stepmother stood a few feet away, her expression cold and unyielding. Her presence was a sharp contrast to Bianca’s visible terror. She rushed past me like I was nothing less than an insignificant fly.
“Bianca,” she cried out, her voice dripping with false concern. “Are you all right?”
Everyone’s eyes were on us.
Bianca took several steps back, shaking her head violently. “Stay away from me.”
Those were her last words before she was taken away by her men. Probably taken to the family’s doctor or something. My father approached, Annalise on his heels like some lost puppy. His face held a mask of confusion and concern.
“What happened here?”
My stepmother obviously did not think she needed to grace him with an answer so he turned to me.
I turned to my stepmother, my jaw clenched. “What did you do to her?”
She arched an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Whatever do you mean, Matteo? I merely came to check on her.”
Fuck checking on her.
This woman was a master manipulator, her true intentions hidden behind a polished exterior. She hardly showed fear and was probably the mastermind to everything Luca was doing. From every information I gathered on Bianca and my mom, none of them ever mentioned her.
So why had Bianca scream like she had seen a ghost when she saw her behind me?