Wicked Dance [Editing]

Twenty-Two

Matteo

Mayra told me I was being unfair and obstinate.

She called me a jerk, a liar, a bastard after I told her to cancel the wedding. She insulted me to the point that I threatened to fire her, something she didn't even blink at, hissing at me that she didn't give a fuck as long as I heard what she had to say.

The person that knew very well why I was doing this, that had been on board with my plan on using Contessina, insulted me and told me to stop hurting an innocent woman. She told me I was being what Emory would hate, that Contessina did not deserve my indifference and coldness.

This time, I ignored the fact that she may be right, I forced myself to not care, to not think, to stop thinking about her but she was everywhere. She was at every restaurant I ate at. She was in my office, in my room, in my bed, in every place, she was in my bloodstream.

Contessina was in every part of me, filling my lungs and twisting my soul, making it very hard to forget her.

And I wanted to forget her, get her out of my head, out of my poor little heart that didn't have love to give. I wanted to... I tried, I did, to push her away and the more I did, the more she stayed. It didn't matter if I talked to her or not, she did all of it, it didn't matter if I listened or not, she didn't stop, nothing mattered because she didn't give up.

It was like she was actually saying the truth, like she actually loved me... but she was a liar.

A beautiful, sweet, addicting liar.

Pulling my thoughts together, away from her, I try to concentrate on my work because it's the only thing I can do. I try to work, to fill my mind and not let it wander to Contessina but it's impossible not to think of her, especially after what she did yesterday, my heart drumming as I remembered her touch.

How she knew where I was? I could guess because it didn't matter what I ordered Mayra to do- cancel the wedding- she didn't do it, telling me I should do it instead and I was half tempted to do so. To go to church, call each person, tell them that there would be no wedding as I had told her that night.

I wouldn't marry her, not because she had slept with men before- I didn't care about it- but because she humiliated me, she made me a fool, she...

I would do it, let it all unfold, let the wedding take its place, let her dress up in that white gown, let her show up at the altar only to never show up for her.

It would destroy her. Humiliate her. Break her.

The Mafia Princess, jilted at her wedding. Unwanted. Disgraced. Alone.

In my defense, she chose to stay, she chose that. I told her to leave, that she could leave, it was her choice to stay, to endure what was going to happen and what had happened, like last night.

Why I did it? I didn't know, I told myself it was because it's exactly what she did but in reality, I didn't know- nothing in my head seemed to make sense anymore.

The moment I sat with an old fling, I told myself it wasn't cheating because technically I told her I wouldn't marry her. I wasn't cheating but it felt like I was with each second I sat there, talking to a woman that I had once fucked. I sat, bored, thinking of another woman who was probably waiting for me at home, with a meal she had cooked, waiting like every night for the past two weeks.

I thought of her and at first, I thought it was my pure imagination- my psychosis- but the moment I saw the hurt in her usually bright hazel eyes- brief but gone in a flash- I knew it was Contessina standing behind a woman who I couldn't even remember the name to.