That Glance Was Enough

From then on, I could feel Matteo's eyes on me constantly.

Whenever I sensed his stare and glanced his way, he would quickly look away.

On days when I would go for a walk without a driver, I would notice a shadowy figure keeping a discreet distance.

It was my very own stalker.

One weekend, I made plans to go rock climbing with some friends.

We had barely started our adventure in the wild when we ran into Joseph Ricci, the heir of a rival family.

I averted my gaze, but Joseph's hand tightened around his cigar, and his menacing stare bore into me.

Five minutes into our descent, a shower of rocks and the sounds of a scuffle from above caught us off guard.

Our main rope began to sway dangerously, as if someone was trying to sever it. Before I could even think of a backup plan, Matteo's voice rang out from above.

"Isabella, I'm here. Don't be scared, I'll pull you up."

Admitting I was not terrified after such a narrow escape would be a lie.

When I saw Matteo, bloodied and battered, and Joseph groaning on the ground, it all clicked.

Joseph had wanted me dead.

However, Matteo was my savior.

His intense gaze held mine, swirling with emotions that I could not quite understand.

Matteo's gaze softened as he looked up again, the intensity replaced by a warmth that could only be described as love.

"Thank goodness you're safe."

Those were his last words before he slumped over, unconscious.

He was out for three whole days and nights, and I was right there, unwavering, by his side the entire time.

When he finally woke up, we made it official.

We became a couple.

"I can see in your eyes how much you love me. If that look ever fades, I'll let you go," I said.

He raised his hand to swear an oath, but the movement pulled at the deep wound in his belly.

"Ouch!

"Don't worry, you'll never have to see that day."

I knew he did not believe me. He thought I was just teasing him.

Little did he know, one day my words would become reality.

From then on, his father, the Don, sent the family's Underboss to bring him home.

I stood by him, helping him face every obstacle and plot out our next moves.

In time, his father stepped aside, and Matteo took his place as the new Don.

A loud screech of brakes snapped me out of my daydream, and the memory of that young man's loving gaze grew hazy.

Back at the villa where I lived before we were married, I crashed into bed and did not wake up for over two days.

Not a peep from Matteo. No texts, no calls.

It was as if I had vanished.

However, the family buzzed with talk of Elena.

"Ms. Conti is the Don's right-hand now. "

"Exactly. I heard Ms. Conti's practically got the influence of an Underboss. "

"Looks like Ms. Conti and the Don are heading for happy news. She'll be the Don's wife before we know it. "

When Matteo and I tied the knot, he was fresh at the helm of the family, with loyalties still in flux.

We agreed to keep our marriage under wraps until he had the family firmly in his grasp. Only then would we go public.

A decade had slipped by, ten long years.

Then, as I reflected, was it all to keep the peace?

No, it was all about making a clean break, at least that was what I told myself.

The whispers never stopped, always buzzing in the background.

I massaged my tired eyes, grabbed the family exit notice I had printed, and headed into Matteo's office.

There, in Matteo's grand office, Elena sat at his massive desk, leisurely enjoying a bowl of the famed Itania tomato soup.

I did not even need to look closely. A mere glance was enough to spot the bright red splatters on the pristine marble surface.

The sight was a slap in the face, my cheeks burning with the sting of irony.

For a decade in that office, I had not touched a drop of hot soup, not even a sip of coffee.

Matteo was clear. A messy office would tarnish his reputation with the crew, a stained desk would tarnish the family's image.

However, there Elena was, allowed to sip her aromatic soup, splashing it onto the desk without a care.

The splatters were so bold, so mocking, it was as if they were laughing at me.

"Mrs. Santoro, what are you doing here?"

Elena fumbled, setting down her spoon in a fluster.

She was one of the very few in the family, besides the Underboss, who knew I was the Don's wife.

Matteo said there was no need for secrets between us since we were all family.

Sure, for Elena, my not-so-secret status was just a convenience, a way for her to cash in on my hard work.

I had negotiated a 50-million-dollar arms deal, and Elena was the belle of the ball.

I had brokered an 80-million-dollar drug trade, and still, it was Elena who shone at the party.

All the deals I crafted with my blood, sweat, and tears, and it was Elena who wore the crowns of success.

Matteo had merely turned a blind eye to all my toil.

I had given all my accomplishments to Elena, dressing it up as a learning opportunity for her.

Matteo would have said, "She's young. Let her learn from this."

However, Elena's question, which seemed innocent enough, had set Matteo off like a lit fuse.

"Who said you could come in without knocking?"