Deception's Paradise

CHAPTER 1.1

SOPHIE

​Matteo's body subtly tensed, an almost imperceptible shift, but she noticed. He pulled back a few inches, the sheets sliding away to reveal the sculpted muscles of his chest. The movement felt cold and distant, as if he were bracing for an imminent confrontation.

"What do you want to talk about?" The question was calm, but there was a sharp edge of ice in his tone that made Sophie swallow hard.

"About us." The two words hung in the quiet of the room, heavy, laden with a meaning she knew he would understand.

Matteo's eyes narrowed further, a shadow of suspicion settling in them. But, like a skilled poker player, he quickly masked the emotion, adopting a neutral expression that made her feel even more exposed. His hand, so tender moments ago, now rested inert against her skin, cold as marble.

Before Sophie could continue, the shrill sound of the doorbell cut through the moment. She jumped, her heart racing. Matteo muttered a curse under his breath in Italian, his voice low and irritated as he reached for the intercom by the bed.

"What is it?" he asked with an abrupt finality, his terse tone clearly revealing his frustration.

​Sophie winced, biting her lower lip. Who could be at the door? And what did this interruption mean for the conversation she so desperately needed to have?

"It's Selene. Can I come up?" A woman's voice sounded from the other end of the line.

Sophie felt her muscles tense at the name. Selene. Matteo's assistant. The woman seemed to float over their lives like a persistent shadow, and here she was again, at the door of the home they shared.

The soft twilight filtered through the blinds, casting stripes of light on the opposite wall. The air was thick with the woody scent of Matteo's cologne, which still lingered, mixing with the metallic odor of the approaching rain.

"I am extremely busy at the moment, Selene. This can wait until I get to the office tomorrow," Matteo replied, his voice low and tinged with impatience.

"My apologies, sir, but it can't. I need your signature on a contract that must be delivered by 7 a.m.," Selene insisted, in a professional tone that veiled any trace of emotion.

Matteo let out another quiet curse, almost inaudible, but it resonated in Sophie like a blunt blow.

"Then come in," he conceded, swinging his legs to the side of the bed and rising with an agile motion.

Sophie watched him in silence as he walked toward the dark wood wardrobe, its doors creaking slightly. Matteo pulled out a pair of black trousers and a white shirt, his long, determined fingers moving with precision.

"Why does she come here so often?" Sophie asked, trying to keep her voice steady, but the tension was palpable.

Matteo looked up at her, surprised, as he slid the shirt over his shoulders.

"She's my assistant. It's her job to work with me," he retorted, in a tone that made it clear he wanted to end the conversation.

"At your home?" Sophie shot back, the sarcasm in her voice cutting through the air like a sharp blade.

He shook his head dismissively, his eyes narrowing for a brief moment as he buttoned the shirt.

"I'll be back in a moment, and we can discuss this then."

Matteo left the room with firm steps, and the silence that followed squeezed Sophie's chest. The shadows from the blinds danced with the breeze outside, as if reflecting the turmoil within her.

Fighting against the avalanche of thoughts, Sophie found herself fixated on the idea of postponing the discussion. It was crucial to tell Matteo about the pregnancy, but first, she needed to understand what he felt. What did he think about their future? It was impossible to put it off any longer: the revelation would happen that night.

Anxiety pulsed beneath her skin like an electric current as the minutes dragged on. Not wanting to face the vulnerability of her nudity, Sophie got up and put on a pair of faded jeans and a simple t-shirt. Looking at herself in the mirror, she nonchalantly arranged her hair, as if it could hide her internal chaos. "Composed and elegant," she thought, but a melancholy smile curved her lips.

When she finally heard Matteo's footsteps approaching down the hallway, her heart seemed to stumble. He entered the room with a furrowed brow, his eyes distant, as if his mind were still elsewhere.

As he looked at her, Matteo raised his eyebrows and, with a mischievous smile, commented:

"I like you better without clothes, amore mio."

The remark made Sophie blush, but the smile she gave him was shaky, filled with nervousness. Without a word, she went to the bed and sat on the edge, her fingers intertwining in the fabric of the quilt.

"Is everything okay with work?" she asked, her voice coming out softer than she intended.

Matteo shrugged, a nonchalant gesture that offered no answers. The tension between them was palpable, like a taut string about to snap. The distant sound of thunder echoed far off, like a premonition, as Sophie tried to find the courage to cross the invisible wall that seemed to separate them. There was something undefined in the air, an electricity that made the hairs on the back of Sophie's neck stand on end.

Matteo, with an unshakable confidence, advanced toward the bed, each step a calculated movement, demonstrating the precision of a predator sizing up the distance to its prey. His eyes, intense and sharply focused, gleamed with an intriguing mix of curiosity and challenge. When he was just inches from her, Sophie felt a lurch in her stomach, her breathing momentarily arrested. He extended a hand, about to unbutton her shirt, but stopped, as if reconsidering the audacity of the act.

She couldn't bear the weight of his intimidating closeness. The space around her seemed to shrink, as if the walls were dissolving, isolating them from the outside world. With a hesitant gesture, Sophie raised her hand to touch his arm but pulled back at the last instant. Her voice came out softer than she intended when she said,

"Matteo… We need to talk about us."

The threatening glint in his eyes transformed into an expression of irritation. Matteo let out a deep sigh, his shoulders relaxing only slightly before he sat down beside her on the bed. The mattress sagged under his weight, making Sophie feel even smaller and completely vulnerable in the face of his powerful presence.

"So, what's wrong with you?" His voice was low and controlled, but there was a coldness to it that made every phrase hit even harder.

Sophie hesitated, the words seeming to be caught in her throat along with all the insecurities she had been holding back. She leaned back slightly, as if physically pulling away could protect her heart from the truths she feared facing.

"I want to know what you feel for me… how you see what we have." Her voice trembled, thick with nervousness, as their eyes met in search of a spark of vulnerability. "And if we have a future together."

For a moment, Matteo remained silent. His lips compressed, and Sophie noticed the tension in his jaw, as if he were fighting something within.

"Is that all you have to ask?" The severity in his voice made Sophie flinch a little.

He stood up abruptly, moving away from her with a decisive gesture. His broad back was now turned to her, his shoulders moving at a quickened pace as he breathed deeply, trying to master the emotion surfacing. When Matteo turned back around, his gaze was cutting, almost sharp.

"This… what exactly?" Sophie insisted, her voice now firmer but still brimming with vulnerability. "I just need to know what you feel for me. If we have any chance at a future. You only ever talk about what’s happening now."

Matteo took a step forward, stopping in front of her. He leaned in, holding Sophie's chin with a firm yet gentle hand. His cold fingers against her warm skin sent a shiver down her spine.

"We don't have a relationship, Sophie." The words came from him like a direct hit, and she felt the pain invade her being. "I'm not the type for relationships, and you know that well. Consider yourself my mistress."

The word hung in the air like a poison. Sophie blinked, as if a slap had echoed across her face. Her jaw was suspended beneath Matteo's touch as her mind reeled, trying to comprehend what she had just heard.

"Mistress?" The word came out as an almost inaudible whisper. Her wide eyes searched for confirmation that this was all a mistake. But Matteo's steady gaze only reinforced the harshness of the reality.

"Mistress." It was the summary of all her insecurities. Not a companion, not a partner, much less someone with whom he shared something special. Just a mistress. The concept twisted in her stomach, making her feel sick.

Sophie pushed his hand away with a brusque movement, getting up from the bed so quickly she almost lost her balance. She stumbled back against the wall, as if she needed support against the emotional whirlwind consuming her.

"Is that how you see me?" Her voice trembled, a mix of disbelief and hurt. Her eyes, normally serene, now shone with a combination of anger and sorrow.

Matteo sighed exhaustedly, as if he were dealing with a stubborn child. He ran a hand through his hair, his muscles tense, but remained silent.

Sophie clasped her fingers together, trying to stop the trembling that overcame her.

"A mistress." She repeated the word, as if by saying it aloud she could understand its meaning. "Is that all I am to you?"

The confusion on his face disoriented her even more. She had expected to find indifference but saw hesitation instead. For a brief moment, it seemed he wanted to reveal something more, but the words never materialized.

"You seem upset. Can I get you something to drink? I've had a difficult week, and I can see you're not at your best right now. It would be better for us not to continue this conversation."

Matteo placed his hands on Sophie's shoulders with a firm but not hostile grip, guiding her back to the bed with decisive steps. His touch conveyed a mixture of dominance and concern, something she seemed not to notice in her turbulent state. As soon as she sat down, he adjusted the pillow behind her with an almost automatic precision, as if he wanted to resolve the situation quickly.