I spread the peanut butter onto the soft white bread, hardly able to contain the hunger for my PB&J.

I've been shamelessly moping around the penthouse, and after whatever happened between Matteo and I earlier today, I've made sure to steer clear of his office.

I tried to look for Hailey, but she was nowhere in the house, leaving me to my own devices. So here I am, making my third peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the past hour.

I can't seem to stop thinking about Matteo, and what just happened. Dante has been taken by Harry... My evil brother. I know how much he means to Matteo, I can't even imagine what he must be going through. And as much as I try to convince myself that I shouldn't care about him and his problems, I can't help but feel sympathy.

It's eating me alive, knowing that I'm sympathising for such a horrible person, a person who is forcing me to marry them, a person who locked me in a cell for days because I dared to fight back...

How am I feeling something towards Matteo when I thought I was in love with Scott only a week ago? I'm a terrible person.

This has to be Stockholm syndrome, there's no other explanation. I'm officially going off my rockers.

I begin spreading the jam on the other piece of bread.

"Care to make me one too?"

My head flicks up at the all too familiar voice.

Matteo saunters down the hall with his hands in his pockets, and a blank expression on his face. Beneath his eyes are dark circles and his complexion seems to have gone five shades paler. He looks ill, and drained.

"Sure." I mumble, finally ripping my eyes away from him. I don't even know why I said yes, he clearly doesn't want to speak to me by the way he acted out earlier. And I respect that he is going through things in his own way. I'll just make him a sandwich and then leave.

I finish making mine, and drop it onto a plate, sliding it over to him.

"Thank you." He says as he lifts it and takes a bite.

I get out some more bread and begin making mine once again. I swear, if I keep up this eating habit, I won't be able to get out of bed.

Once I'm finished, I grab a glass and open the fridge, grabbing some orange juice. "Would you like anything to drink?" I ask, before I close the fridge door.

"Apple juice please."

Thankfully my head is buried inside of the fridge, and he is unable to see the small smile creep upon my face.

Once I've poured both of our glasses and give him his, I head towards the lounge room, expecting him to leave back to his office, though he does the opposite, and comes to sit beside me.

I think he sees the strange look on my face, as he gives me one of his own. "Am I interrupting anything?" Matteo asks before taking a sip of his apple juice.

"No." I mutter.

It's painfully silent, and there is obvious tension between the two of us. So thick that even a knife wouldn't be able to cut through it. I'm almost halfway through my sandwich when he finally says something.

"I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that." Matteo confesses.

My eyebrows raise at his words. Is he apologising to me?

"It's fine." I say.

I don't dare look up at him, but from the corner of my eye, I can see him shaking his head.

"No, it's not. What happened was no excuse for me to treat you like that." He says. Placing his empty glass on the coffee table, he sighs and rubs his temples. "I owe you an apology, for the way that I treated you the other day. Just before Dante was taken... He told me that you were the one who saved his life."

I audibly gulp. My hands are slick with sweat, and I'm suddenly all too hot in my clothes. I don't want to have this conversation. I don't want him to apologise to me, because I don't want to accept it. But I know I will.

I don't want to like Matteo, I don't want to forget the horrible pain that I went through because of him, yet when he speaks to me, I seem to forget myself and everyone around me. It's like I'm trapped in a perpetual state of agony and bliss.

"I'm sorry." He speaks the two dreaded words I hate to hear come from his mouth.

I can't even look up at him to meet his eyes, because If I do, I know I will relent.

So instead, I just nod.

Though in the pit of my stomach, there's an aching feeling that brews deep down. I feel guilt.

"I... You said that you had let your mother down... How is that?" I ask, hoping that he will talk about anything other than asking for my forgiveness.

I finally look up at Matteo, and it's then, that for a split second, I can see a broken man behind the cold dark eyes that I only ever see.

Maybe Matteo wasn't born evil after all...

"Y-you don't have to answer. I'm sorry, It wasn't my place to ask." I stutter.

Matteo looks away from me, and out towards the window overlooking the city. "My mother and I were very close. She always wanted me to be the best man that I could be. I guess... That's where I failed her."

I bite my life and dig my fingernails into my palms. "Were?"

He flinches. "Yes, she passed away a few years ago." He says, his voice seemingly trailing off into the distance.

"I'm sorry." I breathe. "I can't imagine what it's like to lose a parent."

Matteo seems to instantly go rigid, and his back straightens immediately, I can see his eyes widen before he looks away from me once again.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Nothing." He mumbles a little too fast.

I take a sip from my orange juice. "What was your mother like?"

Matteo seems to relax slightly and he looks down at his hands. A small smile creeps upon his face, as if he's remembering a fond memory. "She was kind, always considerate of others. She always managed to see the best in people." He breathes. "She was kind of like you, stubborn and strong willed. Sometimes I wonder how she and my father ever ended up together."

I purse my lips. "The world works in strange ways." I murmur.

"Indeed it does." He agrees.

Despite the hardships Mateo has encountered, I can't seem to wrap my head around why he hates Katerina so much. If his relationship with his father is strained, then why push away his only other direct blood?

"I know it isn't my place to ask this, but why do you dislike your sister so much? Why did you tell your father about her relationship?"

It seems that I hit a nerve, as Matteo winces in pain. His eyes squint and he clenches his jaw.

"She told you about that?" He scoffs, but instead of angry or annoyed, it seems almost sad.

"Katerina always vouched for my fathers attention. The more he denied her of it, the more she craved. Since I was the first born, my father made sure to put all his efforts in raising me, and put Katerina aside." There's a moment of silence before he continues. "So eventually she became withdrawn, and that's why she started drinking... Doing drugs... Anything that would distract her from the real world.

"It killed me to watch her go down that hole, everyday getting worse and worse. No matter what I did, I couldn't seem to help her. I had given up... But my mother was adamant that she could help her. One evening Katerina came back home after a night out, and..." His voice breaks, he turns away, and for a second I think he's going to up and leave. To pretend this conversation never happened, and return to being the cold, heartless monster that I perceive him as. But he doesn't.

"That night my mother had taken a fall. My father and I were out on business and Katerina was the only one who could've helped her. Kat was too inebriated, she didn't know what was happening, she couldn't do anything to help... I came home the next morning to find my mother dead, in a pool of her own blood, while Katerina was passed out on the couch, covered in puke."

I can feel myself slowly eroding away. Tears brim at the corners of my eyes, and all I want to do is hug him, and tell him that everything is alright.

"I hate that I gave up on Katerina, if I hadn't... Maybe my mother would still be alive today. After her death, my father became colder over the months, and I knew that Katerina would never live a happy life as long as she was affiliated with him, as long as they lived under the same roof, as long as she was tied to his money. So I cut her loose.

"I don't hate Katerina, Mia. I hate myself." His voice finally breaks.

He looks at me, and within his eyes I can see fear and sadness. I can see the longing for a past and life that he will never have, one that he never had the choice to have.

His eyes are red rimmed and steady tears fall down his cheeks.

"Oh, Matteo..." I begin.

The room is empty and silent, and I feel as though we are the only ones who exist in the whole entire world.

Matteo has just laid before me, his life. He has told me something which I don't think I deserve to hear.

Our breathing is in sync, and we don't need to say anything at this moment.

No words are exchanged.

"I don't want to lose Dante, Mia. I don't want to lose my best friend, because if I do... I'm scared I might lose myself." He whispers.

I can't stop myself when my arms latch around his body, and embrace him in a fierce hug. His body is hot, too hot, and his breathing is laboured. I rest my chin in the crook of his neck, and I feel him slowly melt into me.

"You won't lose Dante." I whisper.

"I hate the person who I have become. I don't want to be him anymore." He finally brings his arms up and embraces me back. "If I could take it all back, I would."

My heart aches, listening to him break apart in my arms. How is it someone so strong, can be so fragile is one single moment of weakness?

"I don't want to lose you." He says so softly and quietly, that I can barely hear him, but I do.

His arms wrap further around me, and I can feel the subtle heaves of his chest as he takes deep breaths in and out.

"You won't lose me." I breathe.

"Promise?" He asks.

I take a deep breath in, and feel my body move along with his.

"I promise."

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