Page 274 of Merciless Desires

The gate to our—my—home swung open, and Marcella yanked off her seatbelt. She hopped out of the car and slammed the door, but instead of running out into the tree-lined road behind me, she stomped up the stone driveway.

I drove slowly behind her, knowing there was nothing I could do to soften the blow, because she was right. I was the enemy. I’d used Moretti’s weakness against him, and it had worked out in my favor.

And now the woman I had fallen for had fully slipped out of my grasp.

Chapter Twenty-Two

MARCELLA

I wore a plastic smile, posing for photos with my bridesmaids, my sisters, and even Matteo’s mamma at my bachelorette party.

I had wanted my sisters to be involved, and Annabella had wanted a tea party. So, we had a tea party in Matteo’s backyard.

This time, Matteo had been avoiding me. I had tried to erase the image of him looking utterly crushed when I opened the door to my room instead of his. He had climbed the stairs and watched me enter the room, his shoulders had fallen, and he’d faced the ground as I pressed the door closed.

But I hadn’t closed it entirely. I had left the door open a crack, hoping he’d push his way in and tell me that he had wanted me, that now that he had me, he wasn’t going to let go so easily. But he didn’t. The only person who entered my room had been Silvia wearing a frown.

I wanted Matteo to fight for me, not with me. I had hoped his answer was going to be different than the one Papà had provided, but his silence and absence only added validity to Papà’s words.

“Just the Morettis and Mrs. Cortese,” the photographer, who must have been subject to a rigorous background check and interrogation by Matteo’s men, announced with a soft smile.

“Oh, no, it’s okay…” Matteo’s mamma said slowly and waved a hand in our direction. “I…don’t belong there.”

“Yes you do, Mamma Cortese,” Annabella announced proudly, holding her no doubt sticky hand out to Mrs. Cortese.

Matteo’s mamma stared down at Annabella for a moment before nodding once and accepting the eight-year-old’s hand.

Gisella grabbed the glass of wine from my hand and drank the final sip, making a face. “Gross.”

“Wine is not for little girls,” I teased and pulled her against my side.

She rolled her eyes dramatically, but her posture relaxed, and I felt her pose. Annabella grabbed my hand and drew me closer to her and Mrs. Cortese, and I knew my youngest sister was wearing an ear-to-ear toothy grin.

“Are you sure?” Mrs. Cortese whispered at my side.

I turned to her with a smile. “I’m sure, Mamma Cortese.”

I was still going to marry Matteo. I didn’t have a choice. I could hate him for the rest of my life, but his mamma didn’t deserve any of that hatred. She had shown that she was pure and honest, and she had helped me plan my wedding, something I needed a mamma to do.

She had stepped in where my mamma couldn’t. And not once did I ever feel like she was trying to replace my own mamma.

“You look like a fucking princess!” Lucia gushed, sipping champagne from a crystal glass.

“I’m so jealous,” Maria said with a nod.

“Are you sure?” I picked up the satin and sparkle tulle skirt, turning to peer at myself in the mirror.

Alessia fluffed the base of the skirt until it looked perfect, because it was perfect.

The wedding gown was covered in a layer of glitter tulle over satin, but it was soft and flowy. The off-the-shoulder bodice had a deep V down the center that was accented with beaded lace, and it was all pulled together with pearl buttons along the spine.

“Do you like it?”

I turned to look at the phone in Gisella’s hand. The one pointed at me. The one that was being used to video call Mamma. Gisella smiled softly at me and nodded once, her subtle approval of the dress that I was going to wear to marry Matteo, even though I wasn’t sure how I felt about him.

Three weeks ago, I had thought I could grow to love him eventually.

But now? I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to share the same home as him if we were going to continue to exist as strangers.

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