Fair Verona

Chapter Four

"Please tell me you're messing with me?" Pleads Sarah as we take our seats on the rolling plains of grass behind the school, the football field splayed out beyond as we watch the athletes do.... athlete stuff.

"I wish I was, but no." I say with a sigh as I take a bite of my ham and cheese sandwich. "I'm Mateo Martinez's partner." Chewing softly, I glance to Sarah who frowns deeply. Swallowing, I speak back up. "Why has this got you looking like that saddest puppy I ever did see?"

"Because," Sarah groans in frustration and lays her back across the ground, her eyes reflecting the clear sky. "It's Mateo. And he scares me." Her voice grows small. "You've heard about what his family has supposedly done. I know it's just for an assignment, Jules, but you shouldn't spend that much time around him. I don't want you to get hurt," she sits up now, her eyes meeting mine carefully, crinkled with a deep seriousness. "Physically, or emotionally."

I scoff and let out an amused laugh, dismissing her warning. "Are you forgetting that I completely despise that guy? How can he hurt me emotionally if I don't even like him?" I let out another laugh as I take a bite of my sandwich, my eyes watching a lone footballer on the opposite side of the field throw a ball to the entire other end as I'm left in disbelief that someone had the ability to do such a thing.

"I've seen the way you look at him." Says Sarah, ripping grass from the earth and making a small pile absentmindedly. "And I get it. He's hot." I nearly choke on my sandwich at her words.

Holding up my hands with a smile, I reply. "Never say that again. That man is the scum of the earth."

"Jules," she says pensively.

"Okay fine, he's got some good features." I mutter, my heart fluttering. "But I don't like him, especially not like that. I am curious though, about how he hasn't turned me away yet." I dust the crumbs from my pants. "I slapped the guy and instead of shoving me in a hole six feet under, he saved me. And my mum. It just makes me question what I had initially thought of him."

"Which was?" She inquiries, dropping the shreds of grass to filter back down to the earth as she arches her eyebrows.

"A guy who lacked the capabilities of caring about someone other than himself." Sarah snickers as I fight a smile. "I'm just so confused, Sarah. I thought I had him figured out."

"And now?"

I shrug my shoulders with defeat, shaking my head slightly as I frown. "No idea."

-

"Ottoman." A voice calls out as I attempt to cross the school grounds and make it to the carpark in time for my shift. "Ot-to-mannnn." They draw out annoyingly. Whirling around, I find Mateo stringing himself along with a lopsided grin.

"What?" I say, my words laced with frustration. He really can just ruin my day simply by being in my presence and yet, I couldn't ignore the way my heart skipped a beat.

"Is that how you're going to treat me every time we cross paths? Because if you haven't forgotten, we're partners. Meaning," He steps up close. My breath hitches in my throat at our close proximity, and no matter how much I willed myself to take a step back, it was as though they were glued to the earth. "We'll be spending a lot of time together." He says, flashing his charming smile as I look away with a scowl.

"Great. I'm clearly looking forward to it." I mock, heading back towards the carpark as he falls into step beside me.

"Good, because I expect you at mine tomorrow morning." He says casually. I come to an abrupt stop, holding up my hand as his grin widens at my response.

"Excuse me?" He shakes his head innocently. "You expect me?"

"Well yeah," he says slowly, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants, he dark eyes looking blankly into mine. "We kinda gotta be in the same room to get this assignment done." He looks over my shoulder and holds up a finger to someone.

Glancing over my shoulder, I seen an elderly man in a black suit standing by a black SUV, the clean exterior glinting in the afternoon sun. Mateo notices my wandering eyes and clarifies. "That's Carter. Sometimes I don't like taking my motorbike."

"So he's your personal uber driver?" I say with a small smile of amusement. I see his eyes flick down to my lips for a second. But just a second.

"Basically yeah. Anyway," he walks around where I stand, walking backwards towards the waiting car as he finishes his sentence, his dark curls bouncing with each step. "I'll text you. Bye Ottoman." With once final flash of his pearly whites, he spins back around and saunters over to Carter who opens the door on his arrival.

Scoffing, I shake my head and head towards my car. "You don't even have my number." I mutter under my breath as I jam the keys into the driver's side door. As I swing it open, my phone chimes in my pocket. Fishing it out, my screen lights up with a new text message from an unknown number.

It was an address, followed by a name. Mateo. Inhaling deeply, I look to the curbside, the SUV driving away, Mateo with it as I'm left wondering how on earth he got my number.

-

Never in my time spent in this town did I think I'd be driving down this road. Mateo offered an address but everyone in town knew where he lived. Hillcrest Manor, situated on the mountains where they can look over the town from above.

Passing through the windy roads, the dark pine trees blurring by, a black iron gate comes into view with two guards stationed outside. First I notice their guns nestled firmly in their grip, second I watch as they move in front of the gate, ensuring I came to a complete stop.

Swallowing nervously, I roll down my window as the guard on the left makes their way over.

"Name." He says, his voice deep and scruffy, an unpleasant sound.

"Juliet Ottoman." I squeak weakly, my hands shaking softly as my stomach clenches, sweat beading along my hairline. I probably looked guilty for something I didn't even do.

Finally after what felt like a decade, he nods. "Go ahead."

Both guards move out of the way, with the one who had remained by the gate punching in a code on a brick column. The gates swing open, revealing the towering manor behind that I hadn't even registered until now. It's exterior was old but up-kept brick, a few vines and other pesky weeds creeping through the cracks. The windows were large and an off white in colour. The house was huge, with a few turrets up top that I had to cran my neck to see.

Slowly, I begin to drive along the gravel road, following the curved path to the entry. As I cruise along, I let my eyes drift over the scenery, a smile finding its place on my lips as I fight to believe this was actually happening. That I was currently at the house of Mateo Martinez. My heart sinks quickly, my breath wavering.

Mateo Martinez. A guy who belongs to one of the wealthiest and scariest families of organised crime.

Breathing in deep and slow breaths, I attempt to calm my spiking nerves. I pass by the gardens of flowering shrubs and towering oak trees until I reach the main entrance, a mysterious figure waiting by the curb.

I had forgot to wind my window back up, so the man takes a step towards the car and leans down to eyesight.

"Juliet Ottoman?" I nod. "Mr Martinez is waiting for you inside. May I take your car to the garage?" I didn't know what to say besides grabbing my binder of notes for English and stumbling out of the car. "Just through the doors, he will be waiting."

Without any further instructions, the mystery man takes his place at the driver's seat. I watch him roll back up the window before driving away and around the corner into a section of the manor that could only be the garage. Turning back to face the main doors, I suck in another deep breath.

"You got this, Juliet. Totally got this." Psyching myself up, I step up to the door and gently push on the handle. The door creaks gently as it swings open, the main entrance empty.

Taking a step inside, I close the door behind me and hunch my eyebrows.

"Mateo?" I call out, looking through an archway into a highly extravagant sitting room that cost more than well... probably my entire life and so much more.

"You called?" Turning around, I watch as Mateo descends from a curved staircase, his arm gliding down the gold plated railing.

I take him in. He's wearing a casual cotton shirt that hugs his tonned arms and chest paired with fitted black jeans held up by a leather belt; the gold buckle glinting in the overhead lighting. His hair seemed to be roughly combed through, the dark curls falling by his tanned temples as his golden eyes wash over me. "You're here."

"Well, you did expect me, remember?" I mock. He laughs casually and nods towards the second floor to which he'd just come from.

"Come on, we've got work to do. I can give you a tour later." He explains as I reluctantly follow him up the staircase, my hand hesitant to touch the railing as I ascend.

"It won't bite." Says Mateo coolly as I roll my eyes.

"I know that." I reply back hastily. But still, he wouldn't understand. Keeping my hands wrapped around my binder, I reach the landing of the second floor as Mateo looks to me over his shoulder with a grin.

"This way."

I continue to follow his lead until we come to a pair of ornate wooden doors with gold handles. Rich people must really love their gold. Snickering to myself, I walk in behind Mateo into large bedroom that could compensate for an entire apartment. He closes the door softly behind me as I take it all in with a confused expression.

"Surprised?" He asks as he walks by me, sitting back on his bed.

"I just...didn't expect this." Compared with the decor outside, you'd think you stepped into an entirely different house. Mateo's room was an entirely different atmosphere. It was truly like I had just walked into a stereotypical male teenagers bedroom...just more expensive.

His queen sized bed was covered in dark linen, different shades of the colour streaked across for contrast. The furniture of his room was made from pine wood with the signature gold handles. In one corner I notice a drum kit with posters of artists I was unaware of plastered on the walls. He had the usual desk area and dressers, even lone clothes and shoes strewn over the floor. Clearly I wasn't worth cleaning up for.

"You done?" He questions, peering to me from where he lounges.

"Yeah, no. I'm good." I turn to him with a small smile. "So, the assignment."

"Yes!" He exclaims, leaping from the bed to rummage around on his messy desk, his laptop still open. I look to the webpage still displayed over the screen. It was nothing interesting, just a digital copy of the play. Maybe he really did want to take this seriously.

"So," he turns to me with a smile, my lips curl upwards in interest. "I did the hard work and selected a scene for us." He says, closing the distance to hand over a physical copy of the scene. Taking it, I look down at the heading.

"Act 1, scene 5?" I question with a quirk of my eyebrow.

"Yeah, uh," he grows nervous all of a sudden, his hand rubbing behind his neck that I watch curiously. "What do you think?"

"You do realise what happens in that scene right?" I ask, my prior reading of the play coming back at once.

"It's where Romeo and Juliet meet." He says, missing the most important detail.

"And where they kiss." I say gently, his eyes looking to mine intently. "We don't have to actually kiss, right?" He looks away to the window, thinking it over. "Mateo?" I question with a chuckle of nervousness at his silence.

"Well, we were told to act out the scene, no? And besides, we still have to adapt it to fit a modern audience." He says, as I eye the growing grin on his lips.

"Whatever." I mumble, not up to debate with him.

"Really?" He asks, arching his eyebrows. "You don't seem too on board. Or are you waiting for the right moment to slap me again." I groan with frustration and embarrassment, my face reddening at the mention of our previous encounter. "You know, you never actually apologized?" He says with a smirk as I look away from his eyes, an amused smile on my lips.

"Yeah well, in a way you deserved it." I smile and look down to my binder. "We should probably get started." He nods and I walk over to his bed, taking a seat on the plush mattress that I sink into as I open my binder of notes. "I'm just going to re-read the scene and highlight my lines. Maybe you want to do the same before we do a run through, familiarize ourselves with the scene before we change it?" I ask, looking up to him expectantly. 

"With the kiss?" He asks, my heart throbbing.

"Eager for a taste, are you?" I ask, instantly regretting my choice of words. He chuckles and I wish I weren't so pale as my face grows even hotter.

"Something like that." He says quietly, my eyes finding his for a moment as I attempt to make sense of his intentions. Biting my lip, I look away and busy my attention on the work at hand.

He walks over, his bare feet scuffing along the carpet as he takes a seat beside me. He sinks into the mattress, his shoulder hitting into mine gently.

"Sorry." He mutters, shuffling over to provide more room.

"That's okay." I say, my words coming out in a breathless whisper. Our eyes meet, our bodies close. His eyes roam my own and my heart beat quickens at what he was searching for.

"Um," he draws me out of my thoughts. "You have a spare highlighter?"

"Oh, yeah." Grabbing a random colour out from my pack of pastel highlighters, I offer him once kindly. His fingers brush mine as he takes it out of my grip, my fingers tingling with his touch. Pulling back, I look back down to the script, my heart pounding so loud it drowns out the noise.

"Okay," We stand before each other in the middle of his room. "I think it's best we just run through the first encounter of Romeo and Juliet, considering that's who we're playing." I explain, my eyes looking over my highlighted lines of pastel blue. "And once we work out who will fill in for other characters and modernize the scene, we can do a full run through then."

"Sounds like a plan." He replies, holding his own copy of the script in front of him. Clenching my jaw in anticipation, I give him a small nod to begin.

He quickly reads over the script and looks back to my eyes with a nudge to the stage directions at the top of the page. Looking down, I realise what he was referring to.

"Oh, yeah." I walk over to him, offering my hand. He takes it in his, his touch warm against my cold hand that trembles slightly, as I pray he didn't notice.

Clearing his throat, he begins to speak, his voice clear and deep, the sound reverberating around the room with power.

"If I profane with my unworthiest hand, this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand. To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss." His eyes flick to mine and my breathing wavers.

Swallowing, I look down to the script to read my lines, attempting to forget the way his hand felt against my own.

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this. For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."

We exchange lines, familiarising ourselves with the scene until it came to the moment I was both dreading and wanting at the same time.

"Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take." He looks up from the script, his eyes capturing mine. He lowers his voice to a whisper, breaking character. "Should've put on some chapstick."

Stifling a laugh at his words, the tension in my body relaxes slowly.

"Shall we?" I say, Mateo lowering his collection of pages as he takes a step forward, my stomach erupting with butterflies at the darkness that crosses his eyes, capturing me within.

He lifts his hand to my chin, his finger gently lifting my head. Slowly, he leans down, his face inches from mine. Our lips brush gently, Mateo not moving any further. I tear my eyes from his lips to his eyes, the golden brown reflecting in the sunlight streaming in from outside.

"Mateo." I whisper, his breath from his parted lips ghosting over mine. Without saying a word, his closes his eyes and presses his lips to mine swiftly. I close my eyes, taking in the kiss. It lasts for a few seconds, until he finally pulls back, his face still before mine. I search his eyes for something more.

Hesitantly, I reach my arm around his neck, my fingers moving through his hair at the nape of his neck, his silky hair flowing with ease. Breathing heavily, his eyes flick down to my lips, which I bite gently with the knotted feeling in my stomach at the feelings he was creating. He carefully moves his hand from my chin, his palm capturing my cheek before pulling me closer until his lips crashed to mine once again.

Gasping slightly, I gently tug on his hair as he tongue glides over my bottom lip. Parting my lips, he explores my mouth expertly as we move in perfect sync. He lets go of my hand, using his arm to wrap around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest as our scripts fall to the floor. Moaning softly, I pull back for a breath, my lips glossed over and throbbing.

Using my free hand, I tenderly trace my fingers over his cheek as our chests rise and fall heavily. He licks his lips before tugging on my waist. Instead of meeting me in another kiss, he dips his head and presses a kiss to my exposed neck.

"Mateo." I whimper, my body growing tense with the pleasure building in the pit of my stomach. His teeth graze my skin and a moan filters through my lips. I feel him smile against my skin, he enjoyed the way he made me feel. Using his hand to move my head back down, he slides his tongue back into my mouth, rendering me breathless.

A sharp knock raps at the door and I jump out of his arms, his arms falling from my body. His eyes widen, his face flushed as he looks to the door. Biting my lip, I attempt to regain my breath, my eyes avoiding his.

"Mateo." A man's voice moves through the door now and Mateo visibly shrinks.

"Shit." He mutters under his breath. He looks to me, a longing nestled in his eyes as he looks to my lips. Reluctantly, he sighs and walks over to the door, throwing it open to reveal a middle aged man in an expensive suit and a pipe settled between his lips.

My eyes widen as I recognise who it is. The man looks to me over Mateos shoulder.

"Son, I didn't realise you had company." He speaks carefully, his voice steady and strong.

"I was just leaving." I mumble. Picking up my script off the floor, I cross over to the bed and collect the rest of my things before walking over to the doorway, Mateo frowning down at me.

"Juliet." He whispers, as I see his hand reach for mine and hesitate at the presence of his father.

"I'll text you." I say before turning to the man in the doorway. "Nice to meet you, Mr Martinez. Juliet." I hold out my hand and he looks to it for a second before connecting in a firm shake that hurt my hand.

"A pleasure." He says with a slight smile. "I'm sure you can find your way out?"

"Yes sir. Thank you." He doesn't move aside. I look to Mateo quickly and whisper a small goodbye before excusing myself past his father, my chest aching with my accelerating heart. I don't dare look over my shoulder as I walk away, but I knew for sure Mateo's eyes had followed me out.