Page 148 of The One
When I ask what it was like to grow up as the son of the Don, he doesn’t hold back, sharing the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Through it all, what stands out the most is how close he and his brother are. It warms my heart, that in the harsh and icy world he grew up in, he always had someone who had his back.
The conversation turns to his mother. Despite him being so young when he lost her, his love and affection for her are palpable.
“Mammaandpapàalways touched,” he says, smiling. “She knew how to soothe him when he was worked up, which was often. After she passed,papàbecame cruel. With no one daring to hold him accountable, it wasn’t surprising.”
He grows quiet for a moment, lost in thought, before his gaze returns to me. “You have that effect on me too.”
“I do?”
“Yes.” He nods, his voice low and warm. “When you’re near, my mind quiets.”
He holds my gaze, his eyes full of emotion. “I love it. When I’m with you, I feel like I can come back to being me.”
My heart melts at his words. “I hope I’ll always have that effect on you,” I say softly.
Compared to the indifference, and at times, animosity my father displayed toward my mother, Mateo’s affection is like a dream.
“I love that your parents had such a wonderful relationship,” I add. “It’s not something I grew up with.
“If I used my parents’ marriage as a benchmark, the world would be a sad place. I always hoped for something better, even though I knew my father would arrange my marriage based on his interests, not mine.”
I let out a heavy sigh. The day he told me I was to marry Renaldo still lingers like a shadow. Shaking it off, I continue, “Isa inspired me the most to keep believing in love.”
“Your sister?” Mateo asks, his brows pulling together. “How so?”
Chapter Fifty-Six
Mateo
“Isa has been in love with the same boy forever,” Mari says, gazing out the window at the passing scenery. Her eyes are distant, and I doubt she’s truly seeing any of it. A veil of melancholy clouds her features.
“Boy?” I tease, trying to lighten the sudden shift in mood.
It works. She chuckles softly, though the sound lacks its usual warmth. “I guess he’s all man now. Our families used to be close, and we practically grew up with Luca. He was a couple of years older than Isa, and they always had a special bond.”
“Was?” I ask, my curiosity piqued. “Did something happen to him?”
I search my memory, trying to recall who Antonio is close friends with inla famiglia,but no one stands out.
Mari stiffens beside me, her hand slipping from my thigh as she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture feels more like a shield than a casual movement.
She presses her lips into a thin line, her gaze retreating to the window. After a long pause, she shakes her head, still avoiding my eyes.
“Never mind. Forget I said anything. It’s all in the past, and soon Father will have arranged Isa’s marriage.”
Her abrupt dismissal doesn’t sit right. I reach for her hand, pulling it back onto my thigh and covering it with mine.
“No, Mari. Tell me. What were you about to say?”
She shakes her head again, as though warding off the question itself.
“Teo,” she murmurs, “we’ve had such a pleasant drive. Let’s not spoil it by dragging up the past.”
“Tell me,” I insist, my tone firmer now. The need to fix whatever has caused this shadow over her surprises even me.
“I don’t want secrets between us,dolcezza. I want to know everything about you, and that includes the people you care about most.”
