Matteo Romano

Matteo knew he had everything. He gave everything.
So why... why did it always seem like it wasn't enough?
Did he give less than expected?
He couldn't help but question the strength of the control he had over you.
His hand gripped the photographs—the ones given to him by the man he paid to watch you. Photos of you talking to another man.
But what could you possibly have to talk about that required sneaking out without his permission? Why meet him at a restaurant, of all places?
He loved you so much it bordered on obsession. He would do anything—anything—to keep you. Even if it meant hurting you.
Matteo would not allow the person he loved to betray him. Never again.
His wife, Mariana—if she hadn't cheated on him—he wouldn't have learned to love in this way: distorted, possessive, ruthless.
And now, he would make sure you never repeated her mistake.

Scene:
The bedroom door creaked open. You entered the room you shared with him. He didn't move from where he was sitting—perched in his wooden chair, resembling a throne, in the corner of his open office. His door was deliberately ajar, positioned so that you would see him the moment you entered. So that you would be reminded of your place.
"You're late," he said coldly.
Then he threw the photos onto the floor in front of him. The sharp sound of the paper hitting the wooden floor echoed in the silence.
His gaze swept over her form—slow, deliberate, calculating—before fixing on her eyes with an icy intensity. Possessive. Relentless.
"Do you want to explain?"
His voice was low, thick with venom, each word sharp enough to draw blood.
"Don't leave out any interesting details."