"Out of the question." The words flew out of Matteo’s mouth before anyone could react. "This dress is not ant for Emline."
"Ridiculous!" Annalise retorted. "How will you know if a dress is ant for my daughter if she’s not allowed to try it? Anything she can pull off, my daughter can do it better," Annalise added smugly, shooting Alia a disparaging glance from the corner of her eyes. "Now hand over that dress, Jenna. We’ve already wasted enough ti."
"But this―" Jenna’s eyes darted to Alia and Matteo before she steeled herself to refuse them.
Emline Hawthorne had already destroyed her lounge; Jenna would rather die than have her lay her grubby little hands on this wedding gown.
"This gown is saved for Alia. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to pick another dress to try on."
"More importantly, who is this ’we’ you’re talking about? Alia and I were not the ones late for our appointnt," Matteo scoffed dismissively, shooting Annalise a disdainful glare. "Your skin is thicker than a rhinoceros’s hide if you believe you can disrespect the designer’s wishes after trashing her boutique. It is no small wonder your own husband has taken to avoiding you all these years. If I married soone like you, I’d swap teams too."
Annalise’s face purpled. Her marriage with Benjamin Hawthorne was lukewarm at best, since everything had been arranged by Horace Hawthorne. No matter how much she tried to open his heart, he never reciprocated. There were even rumors that he preferred n. This was a secret kept from the rest of society.
Of course, Matteo was no ordinary person, and he was privy to everyone’s dirty secrets. He normally couldn’t care less, but this mother-daughter pair was pushing him to the edge. All he wanted was to see Alia in a beautiful wedding dress, but his simple dream was continuously thwarted by these witches who couldn’t identify common sense even if it hit them on the head.
"And you, Emline. You’re behaving like a child. Since I’m not a pedophile, I find myself utterly turned off by your behavior. If you persist, I’ll send both you and Aiden to the kindergarten nearby so you’ll finally learn so manners. Either that or the dog training school. I’m not picky."
Emline’s face darkened, and anger flashed in her eyes. With her prestigious status, she could count the number of people who refused her requests with one hand. She was not used to being rebuffed, and it rankled her greatly― especially when Matteo was once again shooting her down, all for the sake of Alia Kentwood!
Initially, Emline had no great love for the dress in Jenna’s hands. But now that she knew it was ant for Alia, she wanted to rip it to shreds. Alia Hawthorne deserved to wear nothing more than a garbage bag to her wedding since she was trash through and through!
Emline stord forward, presumably to snatch it from Jenna’s hands, but she didn’t expect to face a physical obstacle in the form of Matteo’s impressive bulk.
"Do you make it a habit of taking things that are not yours? Not even a child is so rude," Matteo demanded. "Even if Alia herself did not want this dress, I would never let it fall into your hands."
"Why? What’s so special about it?" Emline shrieked, making another grab for the fabric, only to be thwarted by Matteo.
"This dress was purposely designed for Elaine Hawthorne. Since she’s no longer here, Alia is the only one suitable to wear this dress," Matteo declared, and Jenna nodded in agreent.
Annalise scoffed. "That’s it? So you want to wear this unwashed relic of a dress because your skank of a mother eloped before she could even get a proper wedding―"
"Watch your mouth," Alia said warningly, stepping forward. If Annalise wanted to insult her mother’s mory, she’d better prepare for bloodshed.
"Am I wrong?" Annalise asked mockingly. "Stupid girl, your mother made all the wrong choices, and she paid for it with her life―"
The sound of a harsh slap rang through the boutique.
Alia blinked, stunned. Her arm was raised in the air, but it wasn’t her hand that made a landing on Annalise’s cheek.
It was Matteo. The strength of his blow had caused Annalise to stumble back, falling on the expensive couches in a disgraceful heap, her heels falling off her feet.
"Mother! Are you alright?" Emline exclaid in shock and hurriedly rushed over to help her up. "Matteo, how could you lay a hand on my mom? A gentleman doesn’t raise his hand against a lady, or have you forgotten it because of her?"
"Your mother insulted my late mother-in-law," Matteo retorted without even a second of hesitation, "You should be grateful that I’m not sending your mother to apologize to her personally."
Alia bit her lip to stop herself from cackling out loud. Then she realized there was no need to hide her laughter, and proceeded to laugh. Aiden wheezed from behind.
"Damn, Brother, that’s a good one. Soone better call the ambulance for this sick burn," Aiden said cheerily.
"If you don’t want to be hit again, I would advise you to behave," Matteo said, flexing his fingers. He had never hit a woman, but then if he hadn’t hit her, Alia would have done so anyway. This way, he could save her the effort and the stinging pain.
"Beha― Behave―?!" Annalise spluttered, nearly incoherent.
She clutched at her rapidly swelling cheek, shocked at Matteo’s blatant disrespect for his elders. But she sucked in a breath and cald herself down― no matter what, Matteo was at fault for laying a hand on her. Once she told Catherine about this, Matteo would be in a world of hurt!
"Matteo Montgory, I’ve known you since you were a child, and this is how you repay for all those tis I’ve looked after you?" Annalise asked, purposely sounding aggrieved. "I’m still your elder after all."
"You’re elderly," Matteo corrected without missing a beat. "But it’s better for to hit you than for Alia to do it. I don’t want Alia to dirty her hands by touching your face."
Who knew what kind of germs were lingering under all that dead skin of hers?
Emline suddenly felt like Matteo was possessed by a vengeful spirit. No, that wasn’t right. He was simply hoodwinked by Alia Kentwood that he lost all his old morals!
What happened to the cool, calm, reserved Matteo Montgory? He was an untouchable, ethereal presence of upper society! Now, he was nothing more than a rabid gangster.
Emline had to bring him back to his old self.
She put on a pathetic expression, reminiscent of a kicked puppy as she tried to sidle up to Matteo. Her hands reached out for him, touching the fabric of his shirt.
"Matteo, please, I know you’re angry, but please forgive my mother. She was simply angered―"
"Angered enough to speak ill of the dead?" Matteo scowled. "She has no right. In case she forgot, Elaine Hawthorne is Horace Hawthorne’s rightful daughter. Your mother married into the Hawthorne family. She’s nothing but a substitute, no matter how much she tries to curry favor with Horace Hawthorne and his son."
"More importantly... don’t touch with those hands of yours. I don’t want to disinfect myself. If you’re not my wife, you have no right to touch so casually," Matteo declared.
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