Ruthless Monarch
Can I forgive him?
Can I give us another chance?
After what he did to me and put me through. Can I move past that?
Should I move past that?
I stare up into his green eyes. Eyes I have allowed myself to get lost in time and time again.
All I see looking back at me is truth.
His truth.
He loves me.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you too. Can you forgive me?”
I let my lips tip up into a smile. “It will cost you.”
His own mouth parts in a smirk. “I’ll be happy to pay the price. Whatever price you deem fit.”
“Groveling . . .”
Our mouths connect, and he kisses me as if I’m his oxygen.
We stay entwined for a few more moments, but eventually, Matteo pulls back and looks down at me.
“How did you know?”
“About what?”
“That it was a trap.”
What does he mean . . . didn’t he already know this? I furrow my brow. “You don’t know?”
“My men are still interrogating Eddie. Did you hear something when he was working in your father's house?”
“Who do you think Eddie is?”
“What do you mean? He worked for me. He was my inside guy.”
My eyes widen, and I grab his hand. “Matteo. That’s not who he is. He was never your guy. He’s my father’s.”
“What?”
“His name isn’t even Eddie. The man who brought me to you, his name . . . it’s Jonathan. He’s Julia's brother.”
“This whole time—fuck.” His hand lifts and pulls at the roots of his hair. “How didn’t I see it? I even looked into Ana’s family, but no—I never recognized him. He got through my security checks.”
“When he first started working for my father, his appearance changed drastically. I thought it was because of the new job, but now I see it was to change his appearance to deceive you. My father really did think of everything. But what I don’t understand is why try to kill you? Why would he do anything for my father like that? Unless my father told him the truth. Unless he’s blackmailing him too.”
“Blackmail? Truth? What aren’t you telling me?”
I have put this off long enough. It’s time I told him everything.
“When I was a child, I had a nanny. She started to work for my parents when I was a little girl. She lived in our house. Back then we lived on a large estate, similar to this. It belonged to my mother’s family. My mother had the money. I grew up with Jonathan and Julia. They were the closest thing I had to siblings. When I was ten years old, I had a crazy idea. I wanted to bring Ana a cake for her birthday. I didn’t have a cake, so I took one of my cupcakes and put a candle on it. Ana wasn’t in her room when I went. I looked for her, and that’s when I saw the light in the playroom on. I heard her voice because she was talking to someone. I left the cupcake there on a table next to the playroom. It was an accident. There were papers on the table, the whole thing went up in flames. I don't know how but Ana was stuck in the room, the door was blocked. I don't remember anything. I don't remember how any of it happened.”
My tears come out faster now. My words a hiccup. “All I know is once she was gone, my father told me I had killed Ana. I didn’t understand then. My father told me I would be sent to jail. That worse than that, her family would have nothing. At ten, I didn’t realize it, but I made a deal with the devil. He agreed to always take care of her family, pay the bills, and all I had to do was keep my mouth shut about my part. I didn’t know then that the plan was to hold it over my head. Forever. And I didn’t know the worst part . . .” I sob harder.
“What he’s holding over your head?”
“First, the secret. He told me I would go to jail. I would be taken away from my home. When I got older, I realized he lied, that they couldn’t take me away for that. . . That’s when he threatened to stop paying for Julia and Jonathan. See, I knew they were poor. My father had a private detective take pictures of them. They were only kept together because of the money my father gave their new guardians. He was able to hang this over me. Showing me images, making me bend to his will. When they finally graduated from high school, I thought I could get out, but I was wrong again. They couldn’t afford college, and so I did what he asked, always, and the worst part was what I found out . . .”