Nothing Above You

Fourteen

Enzo Marcelo

These three days, I was so caught up with the work that I found myself sleeping at my desk or my nose dug in the files many times.

Finding Leo was like a game, he had went underground in Roma and somehow my people were not able to find him.
It was either he had gotten better at hiding or my men had gotten worse.

However the work also gave me the time to muster up some courage to go and see Mateo. I was dying to see his face, see his eyes. After what I had said to him that night, I just didn't know how I was going to face him.
I regret everything I had said except the Italian part, I know he doesn't even know what I had said but the way I had acted, that was giving everything away.

I thought it would be better if I would collect my thoughts before actually going to see him. Considering how I act around him, I needed to get a hold of myself.

However, when I walk down the crowd of the club, I find the most haunting sight. An old hag was holding onto Mateo, touching him where I had dreamed my hands to be.

He had his back turned and without thinking twice, I rushed to them. I could feel my rage growing inside me. So he lets anyone touch him? Was it like that? Then why did he played hard to get with me.

My mind was full of thoughts and I could not think straight. All my thoughts came crashing down and went down the drain. All I was thinking at the moment was to pull that man away from Mateo.

I grab the man's wrist, crushing it in my hands. I could literally break his hand right now. "Don't you dare touch him." I growl, my eyes piercing through the man's soul. The man let's go Mateo and his eyes look at me with fear.

He winces as my grip on his wrist gets tighter and tighter. His hand turns white as the blood flow gets slower in his hand. However, I ignore it and focus on giving the man the worst pain possible. My body was shaking in anger and rage. I don't care if Mateo had allowed him to touch him or not. I don't care. I want his hand ripped off from his body even if he has Mateo's consent to touch him.

"Mr. Marcelo." I hear Mateo approaching me and I glare at him. He looks at me scared, his eyes worried. "People are watching" he whispers and holds my hand that is grabbing the man's wrist. "Don't stop me." I hiss but I feel like I could melt under his touch. I look back at the old man.

Don't fucking stop me.

"Please." He pleads and tugs on my shoulder. I don't notice people had gathered around to see what was happening. "Apologize." I demand to the man as he looks like he has seen his life flash before his eyes.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I would never do anything like that again." The man speaks in fear. I slowly let go his hand and he goes on his knees, apologizing and begging.

I look at Mateo and the anger inside me rises again. He looks at me and gulps. I tilt my head and wait for him to speak, to explain but he doesn't. Instead, he keeps on holding onto my arm like a lost child. It angers me more because all I can think is how he has let the man touch him. Why not me?

I grab his hand and take him out of the club. Everyone eyes us, whispering shit in each other's ear. He follows me not saying a single word. I want him to speak. God damn. I want him to tell me that he didn't wanted this. Just four words. Were they too much to say?

The cold air of the night hits me and I sigh. I don't stop walking until we are alone, in a small street close to the club. The walls on both side are covered with wires and the place is dark.

"What were you thinking?" I say not looking at him. My voice comes out low and cold. It's like I'm calm but in the inside I am angry, furious, anxious and scared. A storm is going inside me.