2. Empty

Matteo’s Pov

I washed my hands under the faucet, scrubbing them vigorously until the water ran red with blood. After drying them on a napkin, I changed out of the shirt I was wearing, which was stained with blood and dirt from the night before. I had interrogated a spy my men had captured and left him bloody and bruised.

As I left my apartment, I couldn't help but think of it as a sanctuary, a place where I was the happiest with the love of my life. But now she was gone, and all I could do was remember her in the one place she loved. It was the only place I was ever sane with the love of my life, Daya, but she had to leave. I remember waking up to her making breakfast in her favorite purple robe. It became my favorite as well. Seeing her every morning brought me inner peace. I was happy finally but it had to happen and it happened to her.

She would plant a kiss on my lips every morning before I woke up and be there every night when I needed to feel safe. I always did with her. She was my lifeline, my wife. The only reason I looked forward to waking up and coming back home after a day’s work. She made my place feel like a home. Warm and lovely. But now, the air was devoid of her scent, and my home wasn’t a home anymore. We were happy. At least I thought we were, but it was perfect.

It's too perfect. I didn’t deserve it, and the outcome tore my heart to shreds. After her death, I burnt all her belongings. They took her scent along with them, and sometimes I regretted that. I missed nuzzling her hair, I missed her smile, her witty remarks, her bare skin against mine. I missed her laugh, her kisses, her touch. The way she made me a totally different man. The way she said soothing words to my ears. Everything will be fine, my love. She was in my head. She was part of me. I lost everything when I lost her. I was now a walking corpse. I was dead and empty on the inside. I’ve always been empty, but this was different. CEO of Marino’s industries. I didn’t want any of that. The fame, the money, the respect. I didn’t want any of them.

My father had arranged a marriage for me with the daughter of a friend, Barone. I wasn't interested in this arrangement, and I didn't show up to the meeting where I was to meet my soon to be wife. I didn't want to see her, as I felt she could never compare to the woman I truly loved, Daya.

I went to my father's house to confront him about this unwanted arrangement, and he stood by the door, his face hard and his hand in a fist. I knew he was capable of violence, and I braced myself.

“You’re 10 hours late”. He said

“I had work” I replied, and he chuckled.

“I was embarrassed, Matteo”. His voice was low and heavy. “You had ONE JOB!”

“Work was more important” I shrugged

“For fucks sake! You’re the CEO of Marino’s industries. You call the shot! You could as well leave!”

“This was more important”.

Marino took a step closer to me, held my gaze and smirked. “You’ll marry the daughter of the Barone’s and you’ll do it cause I said so. You cannot keep wallowing in self pity. Yes, Daya died. You’re my heir! And I need to see your heir before I leave this world!”.

My jaw ticked and my nose flared. I wanted to hit him till he falls unconscious.

“My heir? Father, I do not want her”. My voice was thick and firm. I wasn’t going to marry some woman because she was his best friend’s daughter. I stepped uncomfortably close to my father, my hands by my side and my head tipped to the side. He looked up at me and I could have sworn I saw him fidget for a few seconds.

“I. Do. Not. Want. Her”. My voice was just above a whisper.

“You are my son! You’ll do as I say!”. And he left.

I might have frightened him a bit but it didn’t work out just the way I planned. Heard her name was Aria. It was a beautiful name but I had no interest in the woman whatsoever.

Not like I still cared about daya. I didn’t. Daya broke me just before she left this world. She broke me into a thousand pieces. I was hellbent on not falling for any woman again cause love just wasn’t real to me.

“Matteo? A cup of coffee?”. Mrs. Fletcher asked. She was my dad’s cook. The only woman bringing life to his old home. She was the only one he could trust with his meals, he never did trust me. I took the tea from her.

“I still remember how you ran around this place covered in mud and your own shit”. She laughed

I was a boy. She was the only person close to a mother in my life and I’m grateful for all she did for me. Taking a sip of my coffee, I smiled at her

“Ginger”. I worded

“Just the way you like it dear”. She said

She made an attempt to leave but paused in her tracks. Turning back to me, she smiled warmly as I sipped my coffee continuously, not minding her stare.

“She’s a sweetheart, Matteo. I’m sure you’ll like her”. She said

Dropping the cup safely in her hands, I took a step back.

“No, I won’t”. My voice is still hard.

“You can’t be so sure. She might just be the one”. I clenched my teeth, walked out of the house and to my car, driving off.

*

The Marino’s industries. Has a ring to it. And, I was the CEO. I sat behind my desk deep in thoughts on how to call off the wedding. It just has to happen somehow. I spoke the very words I didn’t think I could ever say into the intercom; send Carter in. Carter was a friend of mine working in a section of my company. He had a habit of barging into my office without permission, but today, I'd invited him. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I knew it wouldn't be good. Carter strode into my office, hands in his pockets and face, the straightest I’ve ever seen on him.

“Sit?” I offered

“Nah!”. He was American, and I found his accent a tad bit irritating.

“Suit yourself”. I didn't bother offering again.

“I hear you marrying a hot chick!”. He laughed.

“Haven’t seen her yet, and I’m not interested in making that happen”.

He laughed again. His smile lit up his face, stretching from one ear to the other. His eyes sparkled, and his cheeks flushed pink with happiness. He was a lanky boy. He looked like a typical American boy with long brown hair, which I was certain all the ladies loved about him. His hair was his pride.

“Wonder what she’s like?” He asked.

“I don’t care”. My voice, stern and firm

“Sometimes…I wonder…what daya did to make you loving. I miss that Matteo”.

I looked up at him. Anger pulsating in my veins and my heart heavy.

“Daya wasn’t her”.

“But you loved her”.

I kicked back my seat, walked up to him, and smiled. A few strands of my black hair fell to my face, and my frame towered over his.

“Cancel my next meeting”. I ordered as he looked at me startled.

“We need this, Matt” he called out.

“Cancel the fucking meeting!”. Repeating my orders again.

“Matt!”

Hearing the word ‘matt’ triggered me. Grabbing his shirt, I pulled him close to me, looked him in the eye and chuckled

“Don’t you dare call me matt or you won’t like what I do to your face, pretty boy”. I whispered