"Did I - What?" I ask, squinting in his direction.

"Did you sleep with Scott?" Matteo enunciates every word, as if I'm being persecuted for some sort of a crime.

"I - I..." I stutter. I didn't think he would be so blunt, and now that he's asking me, what am I going to say? I can't lie because that would only be hypocritical of me asking him not to lie to me. I have to tell him. "Yes." I mumble. Looking into his eyes, I notice a flash of hurt.

"Do you love him?" Matteo asks.

I-

"No." I say it so fast, that I even surprise myself. Hadn't I only just confessed my love for Scott?

I look up to see Matteo's hopeful eyes staring back up at me, though it's masked by his cold expression. His breathing is shallow, and his eyes brows are furrowed together as if he's thinking really hard.

Guilt seems to be flooding through my body... I had made a promise to Matteo - That he would never lose me. I intend to keep that promise as best I can. But here I am, confessing that I slept with a man who I thought I had fallen in love with.

Am I not in love with Scott?

It's not like it's a big deal. It's not like Scott is the first person I've ever slept with, but why do I still feel like I've betrayed Matteo?

"Are you mad?" I ask, trying to look into his gaze and find any emotion that may give me some indication as to how he's feeling.

He runs his hands through his hair and takes a deep breath in, turning away from me. "Mad?" He questions. "Why would I be mad? It's your body, you have the right to do with it whatever you please."

I bite the inside of my cheek at his words.

"Mia, if you're pregnant-" He begins, but I cut him off.

"If I'm pregnant, I will not be keeping it." I state.

Matteo snaps his head back at me, his eyes wide, and a look of confusion clearly etched onto his face.

"I don't want a child, Matteo. I'm nineteen! I've barely seen the world, I'm not ready to become a mother."

I'm too young for this. To be a mother. For a lifetime commitment - To look after a whole other being when I can barely look after myself. And bringing a child into this mess that I have found myself in, is the last thing that I want to do.

"Mia, you don't have to-"

"I wouldn't do it for you, Matteo. I'd do it for me."

His face morphs into something else. "Of course." He says.

I give him a curt nod, and move back to take a seat, but Matteo stops me. "Would you sit with me?"

I turn back towards him, and then I move to take the seat opposite him.

He seems to let out a breath of relief.

I cross my legs and stare out the window into the blossoming, sun filled sky. The clouds have disappeared and now there is only the blue, pink and orange hues for miles.

Matteo and I don't speak for the rest of the flight.

***

When we arrive in Italy, it's mid-morning, and the sun has descended upon the world with a wild wrath. As I step out of the plane, I already begin to perspire, and regret ever thinking wearing sweatpants was a good idea.

On the tarmac, awaits a convoy of cars, all of which are surrounded by at least thirty men and women, all dressed in suits. All I can think about is how hot they must be in all that clothing.

I turn to look back at Matteo, who has stepped from the cabin, and begun his descent down the steps. Placing a pair of sunglasses over his eyes, I watch as he turns his gaze down towards me, and gives me a tight lipped smile.

"Are these all your people?" I ask, as Matteo stops beside me.

"Some of them are..." He says.

"And the rest?"

Matteo hesitates when answering, and doesn't look down at me as he says, "my fathers."

What? Why are his fathers men?

"Why?" I ask.

I feel Matteo's hand against the small of my back as he begins guiding me to one of the many cars. "Because, I asked my father for help."

"Why?" I stop in my tracks and turn to face him. "Why would you do that? You tell me that your father is a horrible person, and yet you ask him for help?" I scoff.

He sighs. "With the help of my father, there is a greater chance that we will be able to stop Harry."

Surely he can't be that dangerous, can he? Wouldn't Dad have worked out what he was doing? Why hasn't he stopped him?

"What about my father?" I ask. "Why can't you just tell him, why can't you just ask him for help?"

Matteo pushes on my back once again. "You can ask your questions when we get back to my house and are safe."

I scrunch my face in annoyance at his words. He's avoiding my questions, and he clearly knows the answer. Why can't he just tell me? What does he know?

What is he hiding?

Once Matteo has shoved me inside one of the cars, he gets in on the other side, and we begin our journey to wherever his house is.

I watch as each car begins their engines and begins following closely behind us.

If Matteo and his father think this much security is necessary, then what exactly is Harry capable of? I don't know if I ever want to meet this despicable brother of mine, knowing that he had the guts to take my closest friend and threaten her life.

Let alone want to kill me.

It still hasn't settled upon me - The severity of the situation.

I am going to this funeral to die. Harry has every intention of killing me, and I had every intention of letting him. But now that I see the lengths that Matteo is going, to stop that from happening... Maybe I have a chance.

Maybe no one has to die.

Maybe no one will die.

***

The cars pull up to a large gate which stands at least ten metres high, and is tipped with spiked edges.

From what I could tell as we drove from the airport - This house is highly secluded and away from any prying eyes. No one would ever be able to stumble upon this place accidentally, as it took way too many twists and turns until we finally arrived.

The driver rolls down his window and inserts the security code before the gates open silently.

We begin to pull through, and I stare out the window eagerly as we make our way up the driveway, until my eyes finally fall upon the largest mansion I've even set my eyes on.

It's old, and surrounded by thick green hedges which act like brick walls, sheltering the interior from all outside dangers. The building itself looks as if it's four stories high and is a rich cream colour. In a way, it sort of looks like the white house - But ten times larger and more beautiful.

"This is your house?" I ask Matteo, as he opens the car door for me.

I find myself having to crane my neck, just to be able to see the roof of the structure.

It's oddly intimidating, and I find myself taking a few steps backwards, until I bump into Matteo who chuckles darkly.

"Don't worry, you're safe here." He says, and that's when I finally look down at the entrance, to where I see an abundance of armed me, in discussion, along with more who line the exterior.

Yes, this place certainly seems like it's safe enough.

Matteo gestures for the front door, to which I follow meekly behind him.

He opens the door and we step inside.

I would be lying if I didn't say my jaw dropped.

If it were even possible, the inside of the building looked even grander, with a large staircase at the entrance, leading up to the multiple floors above.

Even the floor is beautiful, and appears to be marble. "Whose place did you say this was again?" I ask, still marvelling at the intricacies of this house.

The clicking of shoes is audible against the hard floor, and my eyes flick towards the source, coming from the top of the staircase.

A man leans against the white rails, clothed in a navy suit, he reminds me heavily of-

"Mine." The man says, and he begins to make his way down the staircase.

I look to Matteo, but he seems to have his attention fixed on this man.

Wait-

Is this Matteo's-

"Father." Matteo greets - Hardly greets, it's more of an acknowledgment of his presence. Though his father doesn't seem fazed, or that he cares at all.

Matteo's father is tall, and leans. Unlike Matteo, he is not built - Though that's not to say he doesn't have muscle. His hair is midnight black and his eyes are just as dark as Matteo's. I can see both Matteo and Katerina in his appearance, and despite his age, he doesn't look like he could be anywhere over forty years old.

"She looks much like her mother and father." Matteo's father says without even sparing me a glance.

"You know my mother?" I ask, taking a step forward.

He gives me a sideways glance. "Yes. I knew her before she ran away from this life like the coward she is."

"She is not a coward!" I hiss.

Matteo grabs my arm, noticing my anger which is slowly rising the longer I have to breathe within the vicinity of the vile man.

Matteo's father dismisses me with the wave of a hand, and a laugh. "Enough of this, we have work to do Matteo, Leave the girl down here, and we will talk in my office." He then turns around, expecting Matteo to follow behind.

And he almost does - Until I block his path and give him a death glare. "You are not leaving me here." I growl, "I expect answers to my questions, and you will give them to me."

"And I promise I will give them to you..." Matteo grabs my hands and holds them in his. "But first I must speak with my father, it is vital that we begin planning for the funeral."

I fight hard to stop my mouth from becoming agape.

Is he seriously prioritising his father which he hates so much, over answering me just a few questions? I understand the importance of what is to come - But this will not take more than five minutes.

"I cannot believe you!" I scoff. "Why are you avoiding this? Is there something you are not telling me?" I ask.

"Now is really not a good time." He mumbles, low enough so that his father cannot hear.

"No. I think now is the time." I snatch my hands from Matteo's grasp. "What are you not telling me? And don't lie - Do not forget that promise you made to me."

"Matteo, forget her. We have pressing matters to attend to." His fathers voice exudes dominance, yet I don't fear him.

Matteo looks at me, and then back up at his father, as if having an inner battle.

"Don't." I say firmly. But it comes out much softer than I intended it to.

"Matteo." His father gives me an icy look.

Finally Matteo makes his move - And it's not towards me.

I watch him as he steps towards his father and begins his ascent up the stairs. "I will give you your answers soon." Matteo says, not looking back at me.

Matteo's father gives me a smug look. "You're much like how your father was. Always so stubborn."

I would've thrown hands at this man, if it weren't for the one word within his sentence which seemed to throw me off completely. "Was?" I question.

A sinister smirk falls upon his fathers face. "Oh? Did my son not tell you who's funeral your attending?"

My attention falls onto Matteo who has turned to look at me. But I don't need his conformation to know what is on the tip of his tongue.

"Your father: Roman, is dead."

Everything suddenly goes numb.

-----------------------------------------------------