My Mafia Husband

CHAPTER 3

Matteo is speaking in a firm, authoritative voice to the men, giving them instructions and orders. I can't make out what he's saying exactly, but his tone leaves no room for debate. As I watch him give orders, I can't help but feel an odd sense of awe and intimidation. This is Matteo, the cold and powerful mafia boss, in his element.

After he finishes talking to the men, they each give a nod and a respectful "Yes sir" before leaving. Matteo then sees me standing at the doorway, a slight look of annoyance on his face. "What are you doing there? Spying on me?" Matteo asks, his tone sharp.

"I...I was just curious" I say while looking away.

Matteo scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Curiosity killed the cat, you know. Maybe you should learn to keep your nose out of business that doesn't concern you." Matteo walks over to me, standing so close that I can feel his breath on my face.

I step back.

Matteo laughs wickedly, taking pleasure in my discomfort. "Scared? You should be." Matteo's face is inches away from mine, and I can feel his intense gaze burning through me. "Remember what I said, little girl. You're nothing but a pawn in my game. Don't push your luck." Matteo says before walking past me, leaving me alone in the hallway.

I give him the finger, then I walked in my room.

Matteo doesn't turn around to see my gesture as he walks away, but I can't help but feel a small sense of satisfaction in defying him. As I enter my room, I collapse onto the bed, feeling exhausted from the emotional turmoil of the day. The thought of spending the rest of my life with Matteo filled me with dread, but I knew I had no choice in the matter. With a heavy heart, I drifted off to sleep.

"Wake up." Matteo yelled, shaking me firmly to wake me up. "We're going to be late." Matteo said. I open my eyes to see Matteo standing beside my bed, already dressed in a suit.

"What the-? what are you doing into my room?" I ask.

Matteo rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed. "What do you think? We're going to be late for our appointment. Now hurry up and get dressed." Matteo commands me to get out of bed and get ready.

"Appointment?" I say while looking at him.

Matteo's patience is wearing thin as he speaks impatiently.

"Yes, a goddamn appointment. This is the part of the act where we have to pretend to be a loving couple. We're going to a business dinner with some associates of mine and we need to put on a show. It's important that we keep up appearances. Understood?"

"Yeah whatever" I respond before getting up and walking to the bathroom.

Matteo watches me walk into the bathroom, a hint of annoyance in his eyes. "Don't take too long," he growls before walking out of the room, leaving me alone.

As I stand in the bathroom, I reflect on the situation. Pretending to be Matteo's lovestruck wife in front of strangers was a role I never saw myself in.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the act I'm about to perform. I quickly freshen up and get dressed, putting on a dress that Matteo had told me to wear earlier. I look in the mirror, taking in the sight of myself in the dress, and can't help but scoff at my own reflection. This isn't me, I think to myself. This isn't who I really am. But I have no choice but to play the part.

With one more deep breath, I walk out of the bathroom and into the living room where Matteo is waiting for me. His eyes scan over my body as I walk in, taking in the sight of me in my dress.

"Finally," he says, his tone cold and formal. "Let's go." Matteo grabs his keys and walks out the front door, leaving me to follow behind him. As I step out into the crisp night air, I take one last look at the house before getting into Matteo's car. What on earth am I getting myself into?

The car ride to the restaurant is silent, filled only with the sound of Matteo's fingers tapping on the steering wheel. I can feel the tension between us in the air, the awkwardness of our situation becoming more apparent with each passing second. As we pull up to the restaurant, Matteo turns to me with a stern expression.

"Remember, you have to be the perfect wife. Laugh at my jokes, touch me like you're in love, do whatever it takes to sell this act," Matteo commands me, his voice firm and authoritative.

I just nod and I follow him.

We step out of the car and walk towards the entrance of the restaurant. Matteo holds the door open for me, a small gesture that catches me off guard. Inside, the restaurant is elegant and upscale, with low lighting and a sophisticated atmosphere. We approach the table where several men in suits sit, waiting for us.

As we take our seats, Matteo introduces me with a smile. "Gentlemen, this is my beautiful wife." The men all greet me warmly, complimenting my appearance. Throughout the dinner, I do my best to play the part of the loving wife, laughing at Matteo's jokes and touching his hand whenever I can. Matteo seems pleased with my performance, his cold demeanor softening ever so slightly.

The conversation eventually shifts to business, and Matteo engages in deep discussion with the men, talking about deals and power plays. I try to follow along, but the jargon is way over my head. As the night progresses, the alcohol starts flowing, and the men's laughter becomes deeper and their words more slurred.

Matteo and the men continue to exchange stories and share laughs, their voices growing louder and more boisterous. I sit silently, trying to stay engaged in the conversation. But the more the men drink, the more rowdy they become, and the more I feel out of place.

One of the men leans over and pats my thigh, his touch lingering a bit longer than necessary. I feel a pang of discomfort at his familiarity, but I try to keep a neutral expression, not wanting to blow our cover. Matteo notices the man's touch and shoots him a warning glare.