Unholy Union Read online

  Matteo

  “What the hell, Matteo?” Sarah nearly shouts.

  I didn’t expect her to walk away quietly after breakfast. I didn’t expect her to follow me back to my office either. The minute she walks into my office, I know I have a fight on my hands. The agreement is that I will date her, marry her, get my inheritance, and ditch her. The situation will blow up fast if Sarah realizes that I’ve crossed the line. Sex was never supposed to be involved. Isabella is business, and sex never mixes with business.

  “Sarah.” I walk around my desk and reach for her, but she slaps my hand away.

  “Don’t you even think about touching me! You slept with her, didn’t you!”

  “Can you please lower your voice?”

  The last thing I need is for anyone to hear this conversation. This marriage will have to appear real to everyone else. If I can convince her to marry me, and after last night, it’s a possibility.

  “Fuck you, Matteo!” she screams.

  I run my hand through my short hair and walk back to the other side of my desk. I can’t reason with her when she is like this. I don’t know how I have been with her for all these years.

  “Are you going to answer me?” she asks.

  “Only if you calm the fuck down so I can talk.”

  She falls into the chair across from me and crosses her arms. I almost laugh when she starts to pout. It’s ironic how different Sarah and Isabella are. Sarah is a spoiled little princess who is used to getting her way. She thinks she is entitled to everything. Isabella is a strong, beautiful woman who doesn’t expect anything to go her way. She is always surprised when I do little things for her. Sarah is ungrateful, and Isabella is very grateful.

  “You are not supposed to sleep with her,” she whisper-shouts.

  I almost forgot that she was still here with me. “I didn’t sleep with her, Sarah. I made her dinner, then she drank too much and slept in the guest room,” I lie.

  The last thing I need is for Sarah to get pissed and hurt my chances of getting what is mine. She doesn’t need to know that I had the greatest sex I have ever had with Isabella. Her eyes narrow as she tries to determine if I am telling her the truth. Stupid bitch. My father is the Don; I have been trained to lie. She walks to my side of the desk and sits on the edge. Normally, when she does this, I get hard as fuck. Not today.

  “Good because I don’t want you to forget you are mine,” she whispers almost sweetly.

  I was never truly hers. She just didn’t know it. She slithers between my leg and pulls down my pants, wrapping her mouth around my penis. This is what she is good for and nothing else. My father has been right about her this entire time. I close my eyes and think about my night with Isabella. The woman who will be the future Mrs. Matteo Stone.

  Isabella will change my entire world.

  Since meeting Isabella, I feel like a different man. We have officially been dating for two months now. I do different shit with Isabella. I have no other choice but to play the loving, generous boyfriend. I must be the man that goes to the fucking movies. I go grocery shopping, and I never would have imagined there would be so many damn plays in Chicago. If it makes Isabella happy, I bite my lip while I grin and bear it.

  There is something important on the line. My future.

  It almost makes me feel guilty to know that Isabella thinks I am a good man. I remind myself daily that I am with her because of the clause. I am a greedy, controlling bastard who deserves to take over the family business. I have one goal where she is concerned. I need her to fall in love with me so I can take what’s mine.

  What I don’t understand is why I feel sick when she stares into my eyes.

  I don’t have time for guilt; it’s time to make the next move. It’s time for her to meet my father, the Don. Why do I feel nervous? What will he think when he meets her? How do you ask a woman to meet your father? We go to a nice restaurant, and I decide I’ll spring it on her over a nice dinner.

  Wine and fucking dine, right? I hear women like that kind of shit.

  “I need to ask you something.” I pour her a glass of wine and stare into her beautiful, innocent eyes.

  “Ask me anything.” She leans across the table to run her hand through my beard.

  “I want you to meet my father. If it’s okay with you, you can meet him tonight.”

  “You want me to meet your father?”

  I can hear the doubt in her voice. She pulls away from me and suddenly is sitting stiff as a board.

  “He is very sick. I want you to meet him before it’s too late.” I am such a bastard, using the death card with her.

  “Matteo, that is really a big step, isn’t it? We have only been dating a few months.”

  Hmmm… Maybe the death card won’t work with her. I’ll need to change my strategy, apparently.

  “Baby, it doesn’t take long when you know you’ve met the one. I want you to meet him.”

  She is going to refuse. I can see it in her eyes. Can she get any stiffer? If she says no, I am fucked. Have I been wasting my time with her? Michael Stone didn’t raise a quitter.

  “How do you feel about me?” I ask.

  “You know how I feel about you. I am falling in love with you. I won’t deny it.”

  She is falling in love with me? I am going to break her heart the minute I become Don. “I feel the same way about you. My father is very important to me, and I want you to meet him.”

  Isabella finally agrees to meet my father. I can almost see her thinking of ways to get out this. She picks at her food and barely makes eye contact with me. I’ll need to turn on the charm. She isn’t going to get out of this. I have too much on the line.

  Isabella

  I thought we were just having fun. I didn’t consider Matteo to be the kind of man to take a girl home. I know we are spending more time with each other, but I never expected this. He wants me to meet his dying father? What does any of this mean? Is he ready to take the next step? What am I saying? Of course, he isn’t.

  I hope he didn’t notice my reluctance. I don’t know if I am ready for this. Shit, he looks worried. He noticed that I didn’t jump for joy at the thought of meeting his father. Matteo is the perfect man. The only problem is that he is too perfect. If it’s too good to be true, it normally is. I keep waiting for the shoe to drop, or in my case, explode. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I just go with the flow and enjoy the ride? I know exactly why I can’t just go with it. Girls like me don’t meet Prince Charming. They always start out as Prince Charming and turn into your biggest nightmare.

  Damn, Matteo is convincing. I agree to meet Mr. Michael Stone. What was I thinking? When he starts asking me about my feelings, how can I turn him down? I eat as slowly as I possibly can. I don’t want to go through with this. Why do I think this is moving too fast?

  Matteo can’t stop smiling, and I feel a little relieved that I have made him happy. I smile as he practically glides to the car. He opens my door and gives me a soft kiss before I get in. I made him happy. That is the most important thing, right? I watch as he walks over to the driver’s side. He slides in and gives me a sensual smile.

  It feels like it takes forever to get the house, but at the same time, I am in no hurry to get there. Is it best to enjoy the wait or just get it over with? My eyes widen when he pulls into the driveway behind a white Mercedes.

  “You’ll get to meet my brother, too.” He smiles.

  Oh boy, more family members. What will his family think if I am covered in my own vomit? Matteo’s father lives in a mansion. I suppose I should have known. The house is beautiful with marble floors in the open doorway. My eyes move to the swivel staircase as an attractive man comes down the stairs.

  “Hey.” He pulls Matteo into a hug.

  “Paolo, I want you to meet Isabella. Isabella, this is my brother Paolo.”

  He smiles and reaches for my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Isabella. I take it you’re here to meet our father?”

  “She is,
” Matteo answers.

  “You two look so much alike. Sarah looks nothing like either of you,” I say, taken aback by their similarities.

  Paolo’s eyebrows lift, and he looks at Matteo. “Why would Sarah…?”

  Matteo cuts him off with a shove. “Sarah looks more like our mother. We get our good looks from our father.”

  Paolo shakes his head and tells us we can go upstairs whenever we’re ready.

  “Did I say something wrong?” I whisper.

  “No, he doesn’t get along with Sarah. It’s best not to bring her up again.”

  I instantly see why Matteo believes he and Paolo get their good looks from Michael Stone. He is a very handsome man with few wrinkles and gray hair. His eyes follow me as I enter the large bedroom.

  “Dad, I want you to meet Isabella. She is very special to me.”

  He gently nods his head and tries to lift his hand. I reach for him, and he gives me a little squeeze.

  “I think he likes you.” Matteo sounds almost relieved.

  “You… are… good,” Michael Stone stutters.

  Is he giving Matteo his approval? Wait. Did I need his approval? I watch as Paolo pats Matteo on the back and notice the change in his posture. He obviously was very nervous about bringing me here. It’s interesting to watch the interaction between Matteo and his father. I don’t know why, but I have a flashback to my favorite Mafia movie and softly shake my head. This is nothing like that. It can’t be. Matteo is a legitimate businessman and would have nothing to do with the Mafia.

  I am lost in my own thoughts until I feel my arm being grabbed. Paolo walks me back downstairs so Matteo can spend a few minutes alone with their father. He questions how we met and what I do for a living. He chuckles when I mention working for the bank and how Sarah introduced us.

  “That bitch is something else.” He scowls.

  “That’s not nice to call your sister a bitch.”

  I guess, being an only child, I will never understand the whole sibling rivalry thing. He rolls his eyes, but before I can question him, Matteo arrives and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

  “We have to get going.”

  Paolo walks us to the door and suggests that I come back anytime to visit. There is something different about Matteo when we leave the house. He seems more carefree, happy, and almost relieved. He can’t keep his hands off me on the drive home. He starts undressing me the minute we get inside.

  Matteo carries me to the bedroom and gently drops me on the bed. He unbuttons his shirt and throws it on the ground. My mouth starts to water as I watch him pull down his pants. My eyes travel from his eyes down to his colorful tattoos, finally landing on his hard, angry looking cock that he is grasping.

  “Why are your clothes still on?” he asks in a hoarse voice.

  I quickly undress and fall onto my back, spreading my legs for him. He rubs his hand up and down his cock and lets out a small moan. Crawling between my legs, he rubs his penis against my wet folds.

  “You are already so wet for me.”

  I moan as I try to inch closer to him so he can enter me. He leans over me and slowly pushes inside, holding still for a few seconds before he starts thrusting. It takes a few minutes for me to get accustomed to his size, but he pushes harder with each thrust. I dig my nails into his back and wrap my legs around him to pull him deeper.

  Matteo lifts himself onto his arms and stares into my eyes. He has stared into my eyes before, but this time is different. It feels as if we are staring into each other’s souls. The strange part is, instead of happiness, I think I feel fear.

  Matteo

  Everything is working out as planned. I found the girl I plan to marry. I can’t believe how perfect she is. Isabella is fucking amazing. Maybe my father knew what he was doing when he added that damn clause. Who am I kidding? This isn’t some fairy tale that regular people experience. I am dealing with real life shit. This is a marriage I need in order to take control of a lot of money that my family has worked for.

  Isabella passed the Michael Stone approval test. He actually liked her. I almost shed a fucking tear when he gave a nod and smiled. The minute she left the room, I could see that he was happy. Isabella made my father happy, which made me happy, and when I took her back to my place, I made her happy.

  I made love to her. I took my time and was gentle with her, wanting to make sure she was well taken care of. Don’t get me wrong, I am never a brute that only makes sure I get off. It’s all about fucking when I have a woman in my bed. I make sure they get what they need, and then it’s all about what I need. This time, it will be different with Isabella. This time, I want to make sure it’s all about her.

  She is the key to me getting what rightfully belongs to me, I remind myself as she stares into my eyes. She’s giving me my future. I will give her what she needs. Fuck. Why does this feel so intense? This isn’t like fucking Sarah; it feels deeper, and I’m not just talking about the actual penetration. I can’t think about that shit now. I have one goal, and that is to put a ring on her finger.

  After making love… I can’t believe I am considering it making love. She lays in my arms. Why the hell does this feel different? This isn’t the first time I have had her. I can’t let her get to me. She rolls over and lays her arm across my chest. I can’t believe how beautiful she is. Inside and out, she is better than I will ever be or deserve. The look on her face is so peaceful. If she only knew who she is really in bed with.

  “Hey.” She sighs.

  “Good morning,” I answer softly.

  “Why are you staring at me? I’m not drooling, am I?”

  Laughing, I shake my head. I think she still would look beautiful. “Spend the day with me.”

  I want to spoil her and fuck her again later. I want her to experience what being my wife will be like. After convincing her to take the day off work, I make love to her again before I crawl out of bed. I don’t know why, but I decide to make her breakfast. I want to do something nice for her. Grabbing my pants off the floor, I give her a kiss on the cheek before heading to the kitchen.

  Hey, we all love a surprise. I always love being treated to something special. What I don’t expect is the fucking surprise waiting for me in my kitchen.

  “Hello, lover.”

  Sarah struts over and gives me a sloppy kiss on the lips. I push her away, looking behind me. I don’t know how I would explain this to Isabella.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I thought I would surprise you!” She smiles.

  “You need to leave,” I growl.

  “Why?”

  I am unable to answer her before she gets a surprise of her own.

  “I love that you’re good in the kitchen and the bedroom,” Isabella purrs.

  Her eyes close when she notices we are not alone. She is only wearing my shirt and quickly starts to button it to cover herself. I look between Sarah and Isabella and silently pray that Sarah doesn’t lose her shit. She will fuck up everything if she blows it now.

  “Sarah decided to surprise me with breakfast,” I tell her. My eyes narrow on Sarah, and I can see tears she’s trying to hold back. I didn’t know this heartless bitch had tear ducts. What is it with this guilt I keep feeling lately?

  “That was nice. Did you want to join us?” Isabella asks.

  “No… I am actually not feeling well. I think I better leave,” Sarah whispers.

  “I’ll walk you to your car,” I offer. I grab a jacket from the closet and follow her outside.

  She is practically running to get away from me. I grab her arm and pull her against me. “Sarah.”

  “Don’t touch me, you bastard,” she snaps.

  “Sarah, will you please listen to me?”

  “Listen to you? I don’t need to hear your lies, Matteo. This was not part of the plan! You are supposed to date her, marry, and get your inheritance so we can live OUR dreams. Sticking your dick into her was never part of OUR plan!” She shoves me.

  �
��I have to make this real. She means nothing to me. She is only a wet pussy. SHE. MEANS. NOTHING.”

  She rubs her eyes and glances toward the house. “You need to speed this shit up. Don’t touch her again.”

  I nod and reach over to hug her, but she pushes me away to get in her car. I walk back into the house, realizing that I am fucked. I just made a promise that I don’t think I can keep. Sarah had started making French toast, and now Isabella is scrambling eggs to go with them.

  I watch her eat and can’t stop thinking about the hurt that was on Sarah’s face. I don’t understand this feeling that I have in the pit of my stomach. Is this what guilt feels like? It’s a good thing I don’t feel it often or I would never be able to work this business.

  I made this plan with Sarah, and I fully intend to stick with it. What I didn’t expect was to have these feelings for Isabella. Sarah is right; I should not have touched her. That wasn’t part of our plan. There are couples that don’t have sex until after marriage. I was supposed to be one of those nice guys who would wait. I would marry her, cheat on her, get my inheritance, and she would move on with her life.

  The problem is now that I have had a taste, I want another.

  Isabella wraps her legs around me, and I push away from the table.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks.

  “Nothing…”

  She narrows her eyes and puts her hands on my face. She can obviously see that I am lying through my teeth.

  “What are we going to do today?”

  I completely forgot that we are spending the day together. “What did you want to do?” I ask.

  “It doesn’t matter. As long as I am with you.”

  Fuck. Did she just say that? I feel guilty enough, and she just made me feel worse. I feel like Superman, and my kryptonite sitting on my lap with her legs wrapped around me.