COLD TRAP

Chapter 73 

MIRABELLA 

It’s been over one hundred and forty eight hours since my husband left for Mexico in search of my father, and it’s been forty eight hours since he arrived at the Denaro estate but has refused to come and see me–his family. 

He’s stalling. 

Something must be keeping him away. 

Perhaps he discovered Helen’s visit and the reason behind it. Maybe he’s stalling in order to get his act right, tighten loose ends, and manufacture more ways to manipulate the situation. To manipulate me. 

As heartbreaking as it is, I guess it’s time I embraced the true nature of the man I married. 

It is true that he might love me, but his affection for me doesn’t change the fact that he is a monster through and through. 

It’s another day, and I’m once again setting up the table for lunch. It was his request; that I make him a nice meal and wait for his return. 

I have made nice meals two days in a row, and he’s yet to come to me. 

Today will be the last. 

If he doesn’t come home today, I’ll know all I need to know. 

As though he listens to my thoughts, the front door rattles open, revealing my husband’s brooding form in all his six–foot–five, staring down at me 

with a smile. 

Thinning my lips, Toffer him a small smile, one that is polite rather than excited. 

With a few strides forward, Matteo soon gets to me, the heat of his body radiating so thoroughly it almost lulls me to sleep. 

“I missed you, baby,” he leans down, sorting to kiss my lips. I shift backwards and create a small distance between us. 

I whisper. “And yet, you stayed away for days 

“Lapologize,” he replies, his hand disappearing into any hair, stroking gently. 

“There’s no need for your apology,” I retort. “I made you a nice meal as per your request. You can go ahead and eat with your kids while I go down to the holding cell and speak to my father.” 

I make a move to step away, he grasps at my wrist. “Mirabella, aid something 

I cut him off. “just eat.” 

As I make my othe 

my way through the excruciatingly long hallway, the echoes of my footsteps send my heart into fear. 

I have come a long way in life, yet, I find that 1 still fear the man who is meant to be my father. 

He’s so unpredictable, so confusing. Whenever I find myself in his presence or even think of him, 1 cower. And I loathe it 

In this moment, when I walk into the holding cell and my eyes Lund on my father who’s restrained to an iron chair, I feel a rush of blood in my 

veins 

I am finally breathing. 

He cannot hurt me anymore. I’m stronger than he could ever imagine. 

Walking to the end of the large room, I pull another iron chair with me, the legs scraping across the roughly plastered floor. And when I’m in front of the restrained man, I finally stop, throwing myself on the seat with a sigh 

We stay silent–my father and I. It’s in silence that we stare at one another, the tension in the air thickening in ways that unnerves the prisoner. His stoic expression is quick to morph into confusion, and then, into mischief. 

A maniacally smile mars his face. 

I gulp. 

1/3 

He asks, “do you expect an apology from me, Mirabella? Is that why your eyes are filled with so much anticipation?” 

“You killed my mother.” I whisper, biting down on my bottom lip. “And then you killed my sister,” 

He chuckles. “Your mother died because she poked her nose where it didn’t belong. And your sister killed herself right in front of you. If you were such a hero, then you should have saved her life” 

Tears spring out of my eyes, “you ruined them.” 

“This world ruined melle roars. “But do you see me crying about it? Do you see me begging to be saved?” 

“My mother and sister did not deserve what you did to them. My voice trembles. 

“Me too, Mirabela, 1 did not deserve what was done to me. I am human too. 

I cut him off with a scream. “I don’t care!” 

Silence forms in the atmosphere. An uncomfortable silence. 

Marcelo’s eyes soon appear dark with rage and spite. He throws his head from left to right, his eyes moving rapidly as though assessing me. 

I shift uncomfortably. 

“What?” I grit, 

He breathes out a sigh, attempting to lean forward. The retrains hold him back. “The same things which were done to me, were done to your husband. Do you not care for him? Do you not see that he’s just like me?” 

Low laughter rumbles in my throat. “My husband is nothing and will never be anything like you” 

His lips tip up at the corner and form into a smirk. “He has so coldly trapped you in this bubble where you delude yourself with the idea that happiness exists for people like you” He laughs, the frequency of his laughter filled with mockery. “You don’t even know the man you married.” 

“I know him well enough,” I whisper, tears at the brim of my eyes. “I know him enough to know that he loves me wholeheartedly and that he’d do anything to make me happy, and that he wants to protect me from people like you” 

“And that he’d kill anyone who he perceives as a threat to your union? Did you know that part? My father adds, a brow shooting up, 

What 

“I was not an accident or even a mistake like he claims. 

“If you’re going to continue speaking in riddles, then I don’t have anything else to say to you” 

“Pablo,” he breathes “His death was not a mistake. Your husband loved him as a brother and a friend, but when he discovered that you were beginning to share something deeper than what you have with him with Pablo, he just had to take him out.” 

“You’re insane.” I growl 

Father laughs. “And yet, you are married to the most insane man on the planet,” 

in the way 

His 

gun was 

I’m rapidly poking my chest while I speak, my breathing coming out sharp and quick. “He was aiming for me and Pablo gor Father tiks. “How could he aim for you, Mirabella! Do you not see that he does not just love you, he worships you. He breathes y aimed at the person he perceived to be a threat to your relationship. Think about it, child.” 

When those words leave his lips, my mind drags back to Helen–to what she said. 

Matteo would do anything to make sure any threat to our relationship is eradicated. 

But he wouldn’t do that to Pablo. That was his closest friend. Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

He wouldn’t… 

He 

wouldn’t… 

He wouldn’t… 

I don’t realize that I am hyperventilating until my father’s laughter, filled with mockery, echoes across the room. “Now child, why don’t you go up to your husband and demand answers. Ask him who he truly is 

you. 

Chapter 78 

And like a child under her father’s spell, I stumble out of the holding cell 

And I only have one thought 

What would now become of my marriage! 

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