COLD TRAP

Chapter 32 

MATTEO 

I know, I always find a way to fuck things up. 

But it’s not that I love messing things up, it’s just my fears. I allow fear rule me and ruin things for me. 

It’s just out of my control. 

Earlier today, I had returned home a bit early and decided to go straight into my wife’s room. But on getting inside the room, I heard whimpering coming from the washroom and when I listened in properly, I discovered that Mirabella was crying 

It broke my heart but I didn’t have it in me to walk into that washroom and ask her what her reason for crying was. 

with it. 

You see, I’m not so good with all these emotions and all the baggages that comes with it. 

I’d left the room because I thought it wise to give her 

er some privacy just in case she wouldn’t want me to see her in her time of weakness. 

I gave it a few more hours until it was the early hours of the night before walking back into our room. But she was still in the washroom and it concerned me how long she’d been crying for. 

“How do I tell him about my feelings?” She had asked herself and that was when my fear creeped in. 

I know I have feelings for Mirabella, feelings that are beyond physical attraction but when I heard her admit to having feelings for me, ittore 

me into pieces. 

I don’t want her to love me. 

It never ends well for those who show any genuine affection towards me and I’m scared Mirabella wouldn’t be an exception if we acted upon our feelings. 

When she’d walked out of the washroom and locked eyes with me, I knew then that I’d never forgive myself if i hurt her and that was how I fucked up a night that should’ve turned out great. 

Without listening to what she had to say, I began blabbing tons of bullshit. Calling her a thing for my pleasure, my whore for the taking, a place to ease some stress. 

How fucked up do I have to be to speak those despicable things to my own wife? 

Really fucked up. 

Of course she lost it on me and demanded that I left her room but I was adamant, causing her to leave instead. So here I am, running my hands through my hair roughly, groaning my frustration as I ponder my next move. 

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About an hour and a few minutes later and she hasn’t returned. “Fuck it. Fuck this,” I grunt as I grab a blanket and her sweater. I rush out of my room and head downstairs to look for her as it worries me that she might catch a cold if she stays out too long in that tank top and leggings she has on, 

I walk past my office and I hear faint screaming. I hurriedly push my office door open and run up to the window that exposes a clearer view of the garden. After minutes of observing the garden and finding nothing, I click my tongue and walk back out, heading downstairs. 

“Father?” I call out in surprise when I find my father making a dish in the kitchen and he hums as he flashes me with a smile. “You seem awfully happy.” I quirk my brow at him and he let out a chuckle. 

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“Does it pain you to see me happy?” Here we go again with the back and forth. 

“Isn’t that the dish you often made for mother when she was pregnant with Julia? What the fuck Ernesto Denaro, did you get my mother pregnant again? Are you trying to kill her?” I contort my face in displeasure and father smacks the back of my head with a frustrated grunt. Original from NôvelDrama.Org.

“This is not for your mother. It’s for Mirabella.” My pupils dilate. 

“What? Mirabella is pregnant?” 

“If Mirabella were to be pregnant, wouldn’t it be weird that I’d be the first to know?” Father raises his eyebrows as he waits for my answer. An answer I’m unwilling to give. “I thought so. She was in a bad mood when I saw her and I decided to make this for her. I wonder what you did 

to her.” 

I clear my throat. “Did she say anything?” 

“She doesn’t have to say it for me to know that you’re an unbearable bastard.” 

“Where is she?” I ask, wanting to change the subject of discussion. “She’s out in the garden.” 

“What? Are you insane? You left her out there? Alone?” I grit through my teeth and father’s eyes narrow into slits. 

“Calm your nerves boy, she’s safe. I had asked her to sit still where I left her and as long as she’s there, nothing will happen.” Father retorts reluctantly. 

I groan in frustration, “and you think she’d obey you?” 

“She doesn’t strike me as a 

me as a rebellious person.” 

I chuckle at his obvious stupidity. “It’s not about being rebellious father, it’s just normal that people do the one thing they’re forbidden from.” I growl and father let out a small “o” as he nods his head in agreement. 

“Well I’m going back out right about now, so there’s no need to worry.” He looks at me up and down with a knowing look, “you seem to care so much for her, do you love her?” 

“I’m incapable of loving father.” I hiss. 

“You’re capable of loving but you do not want to love neither do you want to be loved.” He retorts. 

“You’re right, I do not want to love and I do not want to be loved. You saw where that stupid word got me.” 

Exactly where did it get you?” Father’s voice is irritated at this point. 

“I can’t believe you just asked this question! You know exactly what I’m talking about.” I growl in his face. 

“It was a long time ago Matteo! I was there and I saw it all happen! You should move on from it and stop punishing yourself.” His voice laced 

bottom lip. with pity and that riles me up. I chuckle dryly as I swipe my tongue across my 

“How could I forget about something like that? Why would you demand that I forget when we both know that it still lives fresh in your memory? Isn’t that why you sit in that garden every night to sulk? Because you couldn’t protect your own? Because you were far too weak and you watched as your world crumbled around you? Tell me Ernestol” Father’s palm comes down hard on the side of my face, causing my 

head to fall to the side. 

His breathing is heavy and unsteady, his eyes brimmed with tears and his fists clenched so tight that his knuckles pale. “I had absolutely no choice! You and I both know this.” He stops himself from speaking any further and grabs the food tray, turning on his heel and heading for the 

exit. 

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“Father,” I breathe out and he turns around to lock eyes with nie. “I know, I’m sorry.” He offers me a tight nod and I do the same as I stalk over to him, wrapping Mirabella’s sweater around his neck and instructing him to make sure she wears it and stay warm. 

“That was intense,” Pablo walks in with my dogs–Art and Mekhi–two of my beastly animals. A bloodhound and a Doberman Pinscher. Both dogs were carefully and perfectly trained as search, guard and rescue dogs. And they’ve never disappointed me which is why I love them more than I do my other dogs. 

“Why would you say those things to your father? You know he already blames himself for what happened.” Pablo’s thick volce reverberates in my spine and I clear my throat. 

Pablo is one person that keeps me on my toes. He’s a friend and a brother but he commands fear and respect from me without even trying 

et my beasts. 

“Heat of the moment man, you know how it is.” I answer in a clipped tone of voice as I crouch down to pet my 

Pablo and I sit by the bar in the living room as we continuously chug down glass after glass of scotch, and as Pablo’s lips part as though he wants to speak, we both startle at the sound of gunshots going off. 

The first thought that comes to mind? Mirabella. 

“Mekhil Art!” They both run up to me barking and ready to go. I grab the blanket and have Art sniff it. “Gol Search and guard!” I command and they both bolt out of the door with I and Pablo running behind them. 

“Where are the boys?” Lask Pablo. 

“They’re getting ammunition.” 

In a matter of seconds, all my men are flooding behind and in front of me as we run frantically into the garden, spreading out and following through the direction where the dogs are barking from. 

1 halt my 

movement and breath is immediately knocked out of my lungs when my eyes meet with the ground where my bloodhound is sniffing; except it’s not the ground, it’s my wife, my Mirabella, laying in the pool of her own blood. 

My blood runs cold and my eyes redden, “Mirabella,” I murmur and a muscle feathers in my jaw. I will my legs to move but they’re unheeding. 

“No,” I whisper. 

“Jesus…no,” a loud gasp tears out of my throat when a hand firmly grips my shoulder, “get a grip Matteo.” I look to my side and it’s Pablo but he’s not looking at me, neither is he facing forward. 

His back is to where Mirabella is laying and I furrow my brows in confusion. My eyes move–in slow motion from Pablo to Mirbella and only then did I realize what was done to her. 

I tremble and my mouth drops open 

“Don’t fucking look at her! Turn around all of you! Nobody will look at her” I fall on my knees by her side and begin wrapping her up with the 

blanket. 

ok at my wife.” I out cry as I rest my forehead on her. “Mirabella, princess…who did this?” My body vibrates as a sob wracks 

“Please don’t look at my 

through me. 

“Get the car!” I scream as I pick Mirabella up bridal style, running out of the garden at full speed. By the time we get to the car, Pablo comes forward and stops me from going in. “I just heard, there seems to be some sort of commotion on the road, and it has caused heavy traffic.” 

“Fuck!” I scream, “well then what are you waiting for? Get the chopper And Pablo?” He hums, “light up that road. Make sure no one escapes since they chose today of all days to be stupid. Pablo nods his answer. 

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I turn around to face Alessio, “take care of all the guards present today. You know what I mean.” He nods and the chopper takes off I put a call across to the doctor to have him know that there’s an emergency and I’d need a stretcher on the rooftop where the chopper will land. 

I’ve been waiting in front of the theater room for about ten hours but the doctor wouldn’t come out still. The nurses that keep running in and out of there wouldn’t say anything to me either and I’m starting to lose my mind. 

Pablo and Alessio are here with me to help keep me calm and mentally stable while Maxwell and Dean are out there hunting for the fucker who put hands on my wife. 

“Matteo,” the doctor calls my name as he walks out of the emergency room. The forced smile plastered across his face doesn’t go unnoticed. 

“Yes?” My voice cracks, “how’s she?” 

“I would appreciate it if we talked privately,” the doctor affirms 

“How is my wife!” I scream in fear. 

The doctor takes a few steps back, creating some sort of distance between us. “You need to calm down Don.” 

Did he just address me as Don? 

He never addresses me officially except it’s a serious matter. 

I inhale a sharp breath through my nose and exhale through my mouth in attempt to calm myself “Where is my wife?” My voice comes out 

calm and cold 

The doctor’s head hangs low and he interlocks his fingers as he heaves out a shuddering sigh, “She’s…she…” 

“She what?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

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