COLD TRAP

Chapter 3 

MATTEO 

I was strongly against this arrangement but I see now how interesting it might become. 

They want to play? I’ll give them a good game. 

Fucking bastards. 

The Marcelo’s. 

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I have a few words that would describe them perfectly. Belonging to NôvelDrama.Org.

Lying. 

Cunning. 

Deceitful, pieces of shits. 

And I wonder how they’ve successfully fooled everyone and made it to the top. 

Unfortunately for them, I’ll be Don soon and I’ll make sure to bring their name to the ground. 

But unfortunately for me, becoming Don comes with a price. 

Two months ago, while I was away on business in Spain, I had received a call from my father asking me to return home for some emergency and I did return, only I could never have guessed the emergency to be a marriage arrangement between I and the daughter of that greedy bastard-Marcelo. 

After I’d returned from Spain, I went straight to my father’s estate in Sicily where I was met by my mother and sister. But even after so many. years, I was still unable to look them in the eye. 

I went upstairs to the study and as I pushed the door open, I found my father and his consigliere clinking their glasses in agreement to something while they cackled–and that was when I was informed about my marriage to Annabella Marcelo. In two months. 

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I protested all I could but my father threatened that if I didn’t’agree to the arrangement, my birth right would be stripped from me and handed to my sister. He had me by the balls. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a sexist persona, but I would absolutely hate for my dear sister to somehow get entangled with this blood ridden world of ours. I refuse to repeat my mistakes of not being able to protect my own. 

After my father had passed the information to me about my marriage to Annabella, I began thinking about it deeply. Annabella isn’t the type of woman to get married for the sake of it, and even if she is willing to be married, her father knows of my reputation too well to allow his precious daughter even an inch close to me. 

I’ve always had my suspicions when it came down to Marcelo. 

He might be consigliere but this is Cosa Nostra–Sicilian Mafia–and my famiglia is one, if not the biggest of the five families that runs the 

affairs of Cosa Nostra. 

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No one is to be trusted. Not even your own sell 

And in my thirty years of being alive, and at least twenty years of being a sworn member of the mafia, I’ve never been regarded a fool and I’m not about to become one neither will i feign ignorance to the foul play being displayed right before my eyes. 

The idea of marriage is one that repulses me but the idea of being married to a girl like Annabella could drive me to a very ugly place. Annabella is an overbearing, dominating, rude, disrespectful, whore whose only concern is playing by her father’s rules and sucking any dick she can get her hands on. 

Funny that my father would want such a woman for a daughter in law. 

Being a very curious man that i am, a man so curious that he does not rest until he’s gotten all the answers he needs, I began digging deep. secretly searching for whatever information I could get my hands on until I finally found something 

I’m hardly ever wrong. 

I knew something had to give with this whole arrangement and I knew it deep down in my gut. Thankfully, I made a new discovery. 

A discovery that seemed a little too suspicious. 

Annabella has a twin sister–Mirabella. 

A sister they’ve kept hidden for God knows how long- 

I had my men track her down and uproot whatever information they could on her, and within a few days we were breaking into her laboratory located in Milan. 

Mirabella wasn’t there in her lab but got every information I needed, ranging from pictures to very personal and not so personal belongings. 

Why would I be getting married to Annabella and they haven’t once mentioned her sister? 

Something to think about. 

But looking at Mirabella’s pictures, I was immediately intrigued. Her eyes. Fuck, her eyes, there’re so enchanting, Intimidating, phenomenal. One ice cold and the other emerald green–perfection doesn’t even explain those irises 

She might be identical to Annabella but there’s something about this one, something that had me wanting to meet her, something that played with my head so much so I almost asked that she be given to me in marriage in place of her sister but I held myself back. 

Fuck. 

She has me locked in and I’ve only seen her pictures. 

Well, the fact changed. 

Exactly one month and two weeks later, I’m seated in a restaurant with my family, getting ready to have one last dinner with my wife to be and her father. Just as the door to the private area slides open, my eyes fall on this thought provoking, radiant young woman who looks exactly like my supposed fiancée only there’s something different about her. 

One glance at her and I know she’s not Annabella but Mirabella. The way she’s dressed, her hair, her make up, her dentition when she gives my mother a genuine smile–everything about her screams the girl I saw in the picture. Mirabella 

12:24 Fri, 21 Jun 

Interesting 

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My eyebrows twitch, my heart skipping a beat from the effect of her presence and I immediately curse myself. I’m supposed to be more concerned as to why I was promised another sister and is being given another. 

I’ve always known Marcelo to be a cunning bastard, but this game of his, I have no choice than to play along until I’m sure why he’s making a dangerous move of this manner. And of course to make certain that I get hold of everything I might need to bring the bastard down. 

I’ve always hated him for some reason. 

And this is my chance to ruin him in the many ways I’ve Imagined. 

“You’re late. And one would think you were making an effort to look good,” I tease the woman in front of me in attempt to get a reaction out of her but she only turns around, narrowing her eyes at me as if taking in every inch of me–my facial features. Evident fear in her eyes. 

Speaking of the eyes, something seems off 

I stay silent as well, taking in every inch of her but I’m quick to catch myself before I drift too far. Instead of letting her the pleasure of eye fucking me, I tease her further. “Are you going to say something? Or are going to keep gawking at me the entire night?” 

She doesn’t say a word to me. She clears her throat and picks up her cutleries. 

My jaw tightens in anger, but there’s also a feeling of satisfaction–Annabella would never ignore me, but I see now her twin is a feisty one 

and a snub. 

She might look naive but she’s definitely feisty 

She has absolutely no idea what she’s getting herself involved in agreeing to this sick arrangement but she’ll soon be made aware. 

After the wedding of course. 

I barely get any food down my throat during the course of the dinner but only because I’m so occupied with staring at my soon to be wife. And I know she knows I’m staring from the way she squirms on her seat. A part of me feels ecstatic about this and the other part wants to rip her and her stupid father apart for lying to me. 

I loathe liars. 

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Mirabella trails off to the restroom alter having what seems like a long, uncomfortable conversation with my mother and I follow behind her. Anything to get close to her, anything to take in her features and be certain I’m not misidentifying her. 

“You seem nervous,” I whisper, slamming the restroom door shut, making sure to click the lock twice before stalking over to her. 

What name do I address her by now that I’m aware of who she really is? 

I guess we should stick with Annabella, since she’s decided to impersonate her sister. 

I hold her gaze through the mirror, quirking a brow, nudging her to speak but also using the opportunity to take a better look at her. She’s quick to notice my game play when my eyes parrow into slits and she immediately returns her gaze to the ground before speaking. 

“I–isn’t it normal for a bride to get nervous once her big day is nearing?” 

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I chuckle dryly as I motion towards her. She matches each step I take forward by taking the same step backward until her back is against the marble counter. I hum, dragging in a breath, completely losing myself to her fragrance. “Except, that bride wanted this wedding so desperately” 

“Don’t you want it? Matteo?” She enquires. 

“You have no idea, Annabella. The idea of getting married repulses me. And you, I detest you for agreeing to this. But if you could make a deal with me,” I trail my fingers across her cleavage and she backs herself up more into the counter looking to create some level of distance between us. “You’re the only person capable of ending this absurd arrangement, whatever you want, just name it and it’ll be yours. But l need you to go out there and call off this bullshit.” 

She doesn’t answer. She’s silent as though contemplating on what her decision will be. 

“You’re too close Matteo,” She whispers, her gaze never lifting from the ground. It becomes a desperate need to have her look up at me. 

“You had no complaints the other time Annabella.” I rasp and I’m immediately satisfied when her eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

Her reaction clearly confirms that we’ve never crossed paths in the past. 

“Look at me for a second, Annabella,” I finally order her impatiently, my words gentle. She obeys. Surprisingly. My knuckles rest beneath her chin, keeping her head up, my thumb stroking her jaw whilst my eyes subtly dark around her face, noting the differences in her facial features compared to Annabella’s. 

Contact lenses? 

Really? 

Out of satisfaction, I let out a scoff, my head bobbing. 

Angers courses through my veins at the thought that Marcelo takes me for a fool so much so that he didn’t even attempt disguising his daughter better. 

Oh, she’s so done. 

They’re so done.. 

For a moment there, I almost pull my gun and empty my chamber on her, but being a logical thinker, I decide against it. 

There’ll be no use starting a war over some little, desperate piece of nothing. 

Every other event from tonight suddenly gets me riled up but in a fun way. Her reactions when I’d tease her, and oh, I had to get rid of her. drunken boyfriend. 

Why bother yourself with alcohol if you can’t handle the aftermath? 

Fucking cunt. 

Now that I know whom I’m truly marrying, my next mission would be discovering the reason behind this game the Marcelo’s have chosen to play with us. The Denaro’s. 

But one thing is for sure, it is going to be a very deadly game. 

12:24 Fri, 21 Junt.