My families just forced me to get married to a mafia boss, I didn't know what was in store for me, how my life was going to be but I knew one thing is that everything was going to change.
In the end, was this marriage a good idea?
I couldn't help but bristle at his comment, feeling stung by his criticism. But I forced myself to swallow my indignation and simply nodded in agreement. "Fine," I muttered. "I'll wear whatever you want me to wear."
Matteo gave me a satisfied nod, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I never thought I'd hear you agree to that," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "Looks like this game is already shaping out to be interesting."
Without another word, Matteo got up from the bed and headed towards the bathroom to get ready for work. I watched him go, my mind swirling with emotions. One moment he was mocking me, the next he was almost... almost flirtatious.
As he disappeared into the bathroom, I couldn't help but wonder what I was getting myself into. This game of pretend was already proving to be more complicated than I had anticipated, and I had a feeling that it was only going to get harder from here on out.
With Matteo out of the room, I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself. I knew I had to prepare for the dinner tonight, but I couldn't shake off the unease that had settled in my heart. Was this game really worth it, or was I just making things worse for myself? I pushed down those thoughts for now and set to work, readying myself for the night ahead.
As the hours ticked away, I found myself growing more and more nervous as the evening approached. Despite my best attempts to distract myself, my mind kept drifting back to the upcoming dinner and Matteo's expectations for me to act like the perfect wife. I went through the motions of tidying up the house and getting ready, but I couldn't shake off the butterflies in my stomach.
Finally, it was time to put on the dress that Matteo had sent me. As I slipped into the black satin gown, I couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement mixed with trepidation. I looked at myself in the mirror, taking in my reflection. The dress hugged my curves, emphasizing my figure and making me feel like a different person altogether.
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I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, and walked out into the living room to wait for Matteo. As I stood there, the sound of the front door opening startled me, and my heart leapt into my throat as Matteo stepped inside, his eyes widening slightly as he took in my appearance.
"Wow," he said, his voice low and husky. "You look... different." His eyes raked over my body, taking in every detail of the dress, and I could see a flicker of appreciation in his gaze.
"I must say, you're quite the sight," he continued, taking a step closer to me. "You look almost... beautiful." His compliment caught me off guard, and I felt a flush creeping up my cheeks. I tried to downplay his praise, but there was no denying the warm, fuzzy feeling that blossomed in my chest at his words.
Matteo's proximity was making my heart race, and I couldn't suppress the flutter of excitement that I felt in my stomach. He was so close that I could feel the heat radiating off his body, smell the sharp, masculine scent of his cologne. I tried to keep my voice steady as I replied, trying to hide the effect he was having on me.
"Thank you," I said softly, hoping he didn't notice the tremor in my voice. "I'm glad you like it." Matteo's gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, his eyes dark and intense, before he suddenly snapped out of it and stepped back, putting some distance between us.
"We should get going," he said gruffly, his tone brusque and business-like once again. "I have reservations at the best restaurant in town, and I expect you to behave accordingly."
I nodded, feeling a twinge of disappointment at the sudden shift in his attitude. It was as if he suddenly remembered that this was all just a game and pulled back, refusing to acknowledge the brief moment of vulnerability and intimacy we had shared. I schooled my features into a neutral expression and followed him out the door, trying to tamp down on the conflicting emotions swirling inside me.
The car ride to the restaurant was quiet and tense, the air thick with unspoken words. I sat in the passenger seat, sneaking glances at Matteo as he drove, unable to shake off the memory of the way he looked at me earlier. Every time I caught his gaze, he averted his eyes, his expression closed off and unreadable.
When we finally arrived at the restaurant, Matteo handed his keys to the valet and came around to open the car door for me, offering his hand to help me out. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't help but wonder if he felt it too. But when I looked up at him, his face was composed and impassive, betraying no hint of emotion.
As we walked into the restaurant, I couldn't help but notice the heads turning our way as we made our way to our table. Matteo was undoubtedly a handsome man, and paired with my striking looks and the beautiful dress, we certainly made a handsome couple. I felt a twinge of satisfaction at the envious glances of other patrons as we took our seats.
The waiter handed us menus and left us to decide on our orders. As I scanned the menu, I tried to focus on the words, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Matteo and our situation. I couldn't help but wonder what I was even doing here, playing at being his wife and enjoying the attention his presence brought me.
Across from me, Matteo was absorbed in his own menu, seemingly unaware of my inner turmoil. I watched him for a moment, the way his fingers traced over the edges of the menu, the slight furrow in his brow as he considered the choices before him. He looked so serious, so intense, and in that moment I couldn't help but wonder what was going on beneath that stoic exterior.
Suddenly, Matteo's hand reached across the table and closed over mine. I startled at the unexpected contact, my eyes snapping up to meet his. Matteo's expression was still unreadable, but there was something in his gaze that made my heart flutter. For a brief moment, we sat there in silence, my hand ensconced in his much larger one, the air between us buzzing with unspoken tension.
