Page 48 of The One
What happened in the garden comes rushing back. My father won’t let this go, will he?
He’s not the forgiving type. There will be consequences.
He’ll probably find someone even worse than Renaldo Conti for me to marry.
Mateo pulls out a chair for me and turns to his housekeeper.
“Find the arnica tablets and get an icepack,” he instructs as he crouches in front of me.
“Of course, Signor De Marco,” Giulia replies, her eyes filled with concern as she takes in my state.
She’s back with us in less than a minute, wrapping the icepack in a towel before passing it to me. I gently press it against my cheek as Mateo uncaps the bottle Giulia gave him and shakes out three tiny pills.
“Here, let them dissolve under your tongue. Take them three times a day for a few days. It should help you heal faster.”
I do as directed, avoiding Mateo’s eyes. They’re on me, I can tell, but I’m still too embarrassed to look at him.
The cold on my bruised skin is sharp, stinging through the dull ache beneath the surface. It seeps in slowly, then begins to numb the pain.
“Has your father hit you before?” Mateo asks, his voice deceptively soft, but the steel beneath it is impossible to miss.
“No.” I shake my head, the slight movement making the pain in my cheek flare up. A headache is starting to throb at the back of my skull, too.
“He gets angry easily, but he usually just yells and sends us to our rooms.” I swallow hard, remembering that one time when Father’s anger got out of hand. “But I know what he’s capable of. He once beat one of his men in front of us just for delivering a message Father didn’t like.”
“Regrettably, our world is violent, but it should not be directed at women or children.”
“Thank you for coming to my aid,” I whisper, focusing on his muscular thighs as he kneels in front of me.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there in time. This should have never happened under my watch.”
His fingers glide up my arms and squeeze my shoulders ever so lightly.
“Forgive me, please?”
There’s no skin to skin contact this time, but still, heat instantly blooms where his hand touches.
“There is nothing to forgive, Signor De Marco,” I reply, my voice having gone embarrassingly breathy.
I peek a glance. His face looks conflicted, and now I’m the one who wants to make him feel better.
I drop my gaze, searching for something to say to take away his guilt, but I’ve got nothing. My mind draws a blank.
My hair falls around my face again, and Mateo’s fingers thread through it gently, moving it away.
“Please call me Mateo. Signor De Marco makes me sound like my grandfather.”
That pulls a smile from me. He sure didn’t feel that way when he demanded it from my father.
Before I can respond, Romeo Ferraro strides into the kitchen and stops beside us.
Mateo lets go of me and rises to his feet.
“Where is Antonio?” he asks briskly.
“He drove off in his new black Ferrari,” Romeo replies.
Another new car? Figures. Father loves collecting expensive toys.
