Matteo Raffaele Moretti (AO SERIES 1)

[Ch 4]

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They’d done everything to transform me. I’d been scrubbed clean, bathed in milk, dressed in an opulent gown that clung to my figure, and my hair was swept into an elegant bun with loose strands framing my face. The makeup was simple yet fierce, making my face look bold and unrecognizable.

“Ah, bellissima!” the flamboyant man exclaimed, clapping his hands with glee as he beamed at my reflection in the mirror.

“You look absolutely gorgeous, madam!”

I hardly recognized myself. Staring back was a woman who looked like a stranger, someone strong, composed—an expensive bride on display. Just then, a maid entered, bowing as she handed over a bouquet of deep red roses and a silver tiara encrusted with tiny diamonds. The man placed the tiara on my head with a flourish and handed me the bouquet, watching with a delighted grin as I held it. I gripped the roses, trying to hide the annoyance in my eyes.

“You are perfection, madam!” he gushed, and the other two attendants agreed, their faces aglow with excitement.

They led me out of the dressing room, guiding me like a prized possession down the grand marble staircase. The mansion was massive, luxurious—and crawling with guards. Armed men stood at every turn, their eyes watchful, tense, ready. A muscular guard, built like a tank, joined us at the top of the staircase, his hand resting on a gun at his hip. I followed them down the golden steps, glancing up at the gleaming silver chandelier above, its lights glittering in sharp, cold brilliance.

At the bottom of the stairs, Theo Giovanni Salvatore, an assassin from the Alleanza Oscura, waited with a smirk on his face.

He looked me over, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Well, well,” he said, voice mocking, “who knew you’d clean up so nicely, principessa.”

He leaned in closer, his smirk widening as he spoke in a low, taunting voice.

“Bet you’re thrilled to meet your groom, sì?”

My hands itched to slap that smug grin off his face, but I clenched them around the bouquet instead.

“Tumigil ka nga diyan, bastardo,” I hissed, my words dripping with venom.

He chuckled, unfazed, then leaned in to whisper with a wicked smile, “Good luck escaping him, ragazza. Matteo always gets what he wants.”

Outside, a sleek white car was waiting, gleaming under the bright lights. Theo opened the door, gesturing mockingly for me to get inside.

“After you, Mrs. Boss.”

I climbed in reluctantly, feeling his eyes on me as he closed the door. In the driver’s seat was another guard, and beside him sat a man with a hardened expression, already glaring at me through the rearview mirror. They seemed on edge, and as soon as we started moving, the driver glanced in the mirror, catching my eye.

“Behave yourself, girl,” he warned, voice low and threatening.

I glanced down at the bouquet, feeling the thorns bite into my palm as I gripped it tighter. The streetlights blurred past as we sped down the road. It was then I heard it—a sharp pop, followed by a louder bang.

Gunshots.

The guard in the passenger seat cursed and turned to fire out the back window.

“Merda! They’re on us!”

A red car had pulled up behind, the driver leaning out the window with a pistol aimed straight at us. I let a smirk slip as I recognized the insignia—my allies were here, finally.

The passenger kept firing, emptying his clip in wild bursts while the driver floored the accelerator. “Keep them off us!” the driver shouted, gripping the wheel tightly.

I stayed silent, letting the chaos around me unfold. A sharp explosion rattled the car, rocking us as the driver struggled to control it.

“What the hell—” he shouted, only to be cut off as another round of gunfire rained down, hitting the side of the car.

Just then, our car screeched to a halt, tires smoking as we came to a rough stop in the middle of the road. I barely had time to react before the door was wrenched open, and there he was—Matteo. His cold eyes met mine as he pulled me roughly out of the car, gripping my chin tightly to force me to look at him.

“Try to escape, shrimp,” he sneered, his voice dripping with malice.

He pulled a silver ring from his pocket, sliding it onto my finger with a sickening finality.

“You are mine. Do you understand?”

I tried to jerk my hand away, rage boiling over.

“Walang hiya ka, Matteo! You think I’ll ever be yours?”

A wicked grin spread across his face as he leaned in, his mouth brushing against mine in a kiss that made my skin crawl. I fought back, but he only laughed, relishing my struggle. When he finally pulled back, he looked at me with a twisted satisfaction.

“I want you to scream, mia moglie. Let everyone know who you belong to,” he whispered darkly, brushing his fingers down my face.

Before I could answer, he shoved me back into the car, slamming the door shut.

I frantically tried to pull the ring off, but it was wedged tight on my finger. Outside, I could hear him talking to his men, his voice low but cold, issuing orders with brutal efficiency. I pounded on the window, desperate to escape, but all I could see were his lips curling into a smirk as he turned back to me.

“I don’t want my bride hearing this conversation,” he taunted, and with a cruel wink, he turned away.

Fuming, I clenched my fists, my knuckles white as I glared at him through the glass.

The car lurched forward, speeding away from the ambush, carrying me deeper into Matteo’s twisted world.

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