UNHOLY DESIRE

DEIRDRE

It was past eleven, and Matteo still wasn’t home. I figured I shouldn’t wait up for him, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Mama,” Kendall murmured.

I looked down at her as she tugged at the hem of the robe I had on. It was Matteo’s robe. I didn’t have much choice in the matter as I found nothing suitable to wear.

“Why, baby?” I asked, bending down to her level. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

I ruffled her hair as she wrapped her tiny arms around me.

“I want Daddy to kiss me goodnight,” she murmured, half-asleep.

This wasn’t the first time she’d asked about her father, but today, she’d been talking about Matteo nonstop, even though I hadn’t mentioned anything about him being related to her. It puzzled me. Also, I kept wondering how Kendall, who couldn’t stop speaking about Matteo, had called him a monster.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

Perhaps it was a misconception.

“I’ll kiss you good night,” I said, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“No,” Kendall shook her head emphatically. “You do that all the time. I want Daddy now.”

I sighed, brushing her hair aside. The urge to tell her that her father could go to hell for all I cared surged through me, but I bit down on my lip instead. Just then, Mrs. Smith appeared.

“I’ll take her,” she offered, and at that moment, Matteo stepped into the room.

Great, perfect timing.

Ignoring him as he stayed by the entrance, I noticed Kendall had dozed off, so I handed her to Mrs. Smith.

“Good night, Mrs. Ferrari,” Mrs. Smith said, making me grimace. I hadn’t taken his last name, and I didn’t want anyone to refer to me as that. But I flashed her a brief smile instead, watching as she left.

Once she was gone, I glanced towards Matteo briefly to see that he was still watching me. He was standing at the bar counter, a shot glass in his hand, but his eyes never left mine.

I gently bit my lower lip, making my way towards the staircase and towards my room. However, I halted when I heard his voice.

“Fiore mio (My Flower),” Matteo said, his voice soft.

But I knew there was nothing endearing about what he had called me. Every time he used endearments, it felt like mockery, and I despised it.

I turned to him and asserted, “I am Deirdre. Deirdre Tiaraoluwa Siobhan O’Sullivan. You can use any part of that name, and I’ll respond to you.”

Matteo downed the shot glass in a gulp and loosened his tie. He strode purposefully towards me, his eyes narrowed.

Gripping me, he guided me towards the nearby wall and whispered, “I can choose to call you whatever I desire, Deirdre. Remember, you are my wife.”

I tried to focus on his harsh voice and the anger laced within it, but the scent of whiskey wafting from his breath made me feel lightheaded.

I licked my lower lip, stealing a glance at his lips before meeting his gaze. “I only agreed because of Kendall.”

“Legally, you are,” he asserted. Retrieving a princess-cut ring from his pocket, he slid it onto my ring finger.

“You can’t force me to love you, Matteo. That’s the last thing I’ll ever do. I’d sooner die than let myself be deceived by you.”

“Love?” Matteo scoffed. “Whoever mentioned love?”

That was it. Another reminder that I was the delusional one in this relationship.

“I knew you never did. I’m not expecting that from you, and don’t expect it from me either,” I retorted, infusing as much hatred into my voice as I could muster.

Matteo said nothing for a while, only staring at me. Then he broke the silence in a soft tone I never knew he could use.

“Is that why you made my blood call me that, Deirdre?”

It was about the monster. Well, I was right.

“I didn’t say anything to Kendall, Matteo,” I assured.

“Why should I believe you, Deirdre? You took off with her, so you must have said something to make her hate me!” Matteo barked, his face hardening.

“I swear, Matteo, I told Kendall nothing. I swear on…”

“Mama,” Kendall’s voice interrupted.

“Oh, gods!” I muttered, and Matteo quickly let go of me, putting distance between us as if we hadn’t been on the verge of a heated argument.

“I tried to get her to sleep, but the voices were too loud, so she came here to see what was happening,” Mrs. Smith explained, just as I saw Matteo shoot her a glare.

“Are you and Daddy fighting?” Kendall asked.

I stole a glance at Matteo from the corner of my eye and saw his eyes widen, quickly replaced by a frown.

“No, darling,” I said. “We were just having a grown-up conversation. Grown-ups tend to speak loudly sometimes.”

Kendall nodded. “I want Daddy to kiss me good night,” she said again, looking at me, then at Matteo, uncertainty in her eyes.

“I don’t think he’s in the mood for that, Kenny…”

“I’ll do it,” Matteo said, his voice gruff. He tugged on his tie once again, pulling it off completely, removed his suit jacket, unbuttoned the top two buttons of his pristine white shirt, and rolled up his sleeves.

“Alright,” Kendall beamed. She dashed into the waiting arms of Matteo, who offered her a sweet smile before scooping her up.

Kendall giggled as Matteo took her to her room, which was the next one after mine.

I stood by the door, watching as Matteo tucked Kendall in and leaned in to kiss her. He sat on the bed for a while, just watching her.

Looking at both of them, I couldn’t deny how much Kendall resembled Matteo. Even if I wanted to contest her paternity, there was no way I could.

At three years old, Kendall was a spitting image of Matteo. She sported his russet brown hair, unlike my ginger locks, his distinctive aquiline nose, and his strong Italian features. The only trait we shared was our green eyes.

Her tiny fingers were tightly intertwined with his, a beaming smile gracing her face. Watching them together tugged at my heart.

In some strange way, I carried a weight of guilt for vanishing and allowing him to stay distant from her life. Yet, he deserved every bit of my decision, and I wished we had never crossed paths again.

As Kendall softly snored, Matteo rose to his feet and made his way to the door.

“Come with me,” he said, continuing forward.

I followed, gently closing Kendall’s door behind us.