The Domenico scandal

Chapter 1.

The Bet.

POV: Mati

***

“Where are you going?” Mum stood at the bathroom doors of our apartment in the Domenico house, and I closed my eyes, keeping my back to her.

“Out.”

She looked out at the dark, and that simple act already made me edgy.

“With whom?”

“Girls.”

She cleared her throat as the steam from the shower thinned and small drops of water gathered on every ceramic and glass surface.

“What girls? I didn’t know you’d met any girls.”

Of course I hadn’t. The estate was a male-dominated space, and any girls or women who came here were either already married or too young or too old to hang out with. For a short time, I’d had Angie to talk to, but not for parties. She was not a party girl.

“Natalia and Marija are taking me to a bar.”

I didn’t need to turn around to see it. I could feel disappointment radiating from Mum in waves.

“Those are not girls; they are grown women. You should be packing for college; I regret letting you pause for a year.’’

“Mum—”

“No, call them and tell them you are not going.”

She turned around and started to fluff the pillows on the comfy sofa we had just bought. Not that we needed anything. Vid was paying for all our needs, and even my college tuition, but Mum felt good about spending money from time to time on some small detail for this space we called home.

“Listen,” I scooped my hair into a ponytail.

“I said no.”

It was ridiculous. She didn’t let me go to parties at the estate because there were cowboys around and only the girls they brought with them. I didn’t go to birthdays and parties when friends from school called because it was far away, and she didn’t want to use Vid or the estate driver to pick me up or drop me off – to her, it was unnecessary frivolity.

And then there was her work. As if the whole world would crumble if she paused for a day and did something for me.

“Mum, you have to get out of this tunnel life you’ve created. Nothing will happen if you simply relax for one day.”

She blinked as if she didn’t understand what I was talking about.

“I said what I had to say, good night.” She turned away, put on her sensible cotton pajamas, and snuggled into bed.

The conversation was over. But the anger inside me grew bigger and bigger.

The moment her snores filled the room, I took the neatly prepared clothes and snuck out. I gave a confident wave to the man at the gate, who had known me his whole life, and he looked a bit confused but didn’t ask a thing or try to stop me.

At least someone realized I was a grown-up woman.

The damp night grass soaked my feet through the sandals as I sprinted the short distance to Natalia’s house. The moment I reached the driveway, she was already locking her front door and getting into her car.

I didn’t look the way I had planned. Instead of the full makeup and hair routine I’d envisioned, I had a baby-doll with hearts and a bare face.

“Look at you,” Natalia smiled as I threw myself into the passenger seat. “How old are you? Tell me again?’’ she teased, ’’Cause your mum treats you like you’re thirteen.”

It was not far from the truth.

“She is old-fashioned,” I said, struggling out of my pajama top in the confined, dimly lit space of the moving car. “She’s in constant fear I’ll repeat the family tradition.”

“And what tradition is that?” Her hands turned the wheel, pulling us out onto the dark stretch of road.

I didn’t answer right away, focusing instead on wiggling into my dress. ’’A long line of single mamas.’’

Natalia nodded.

’’I am the daughter who should change it all and make sense of all their hard work and sacrifices.

She smiled. ’’I would fit in perfectly among those women.’’

I knew that, but right now I just wanted to breathe.

I shook my head so my hair fell in a lovely disarray around my flushed, heart-shaped face. I had just enough time by the glow of the streetlights to apply mascara, a little lipstick, and two drops of my favorite perfume. I dabbed it onto the pulsing spots at the base of my neck just as a car parked, and we reached the club’s heavy wooden doors.

The bass hit my chest the second we walked in. Marija was already there, saving us a small table with three cocktails ordered and waiting. She moved to the music, swinging her hips from side to side with one hand in the air.

If you asked me, she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She didn’t need heavy makeup or fancy clothes. It was enough for her to look at you with those almond-shaped eyes, and you would be done for.

As I took a first sip of the sweet cocktail, she leaned over the small table. “Three o’clock, at the bar.”

“Who, what?” Natalia turned her head, and Marija rolled her eyes.

“Could you do that more obviously?”

I didn’t look. Not because of my good manners or lack of interest, but because I had seen him the moment we stepped in. In fact, I hadn’t moved my eyes from his profile until we reached the table.

It was like an obsession.

A bad one.

I watched him now through the shifting bodies on the dance floor. He sat at the bar with a quiet, commanding stillness that made the loud, pulsing club fade into the background. Every time he lifted his glass, the heavy muscles in his shoulders shifted beneath his shirt. He didn’t belong in a neon-lit club, yet he owned the space with his presence.

I didn’t know when or how he had arrived at the Domenico estate, but one morning, as I sipped my coffee, he had passed my table and touched his hat on his way in.

There were some things that didn’t fit the picture. He was dressed like a horse handler, but... no horse handler had ever gone into Vid’s private office and stayed there for hours.

And those eyes, as blue as a clear summer sky, made me feel all dark, restless, and completely flushed inside.

A hot ache pooled low in my stomach, and the ice in my glass clinked.

“I don’t think he is a worker.” Marija lit a cigarette. “Did you see his hands? Those are not hands of a man who spent his life working hard jobs, and the way Vid treats him, it is a bit suspicious.” She looked at me, and I took another large, desperate gulp of the sweet, bubbly drink.

“Don’t look at me; we were never introduced. Once I started puberty, Theresa kept me far from the corrals and barns.”

“Smart lady.’’ She gave me once over, ’’You grew into a nice-looking woman. A bit boring, good-girl style, but still sexy.”

I was not sure when I had started hanging out with Natalia and Marija, but it came naturally, as they were the only free, fun women around the estate. The fact that they were a bit older wasn’t important. We had a great time together.

“I am going to say hello.” Marija pushed her bra up, and I tried not to look at her.

“Why that face, honey?” Natalia teased me as we stayed alone.

I didn’t realize how open-book my expression was.

“He will send her back,” she said, taking another sip, “politely.”

I found a groove in the wooden table and traced it with my finger. “How do you know?”

“She already tried - twice.”

“Oh.” I sneaked a look at Marija, leaning on the bar, offering her cleavage to him.

“If she toned down her ego, she would understand that the man is not into her. I would never go back for a third fuck-off.”

As she talked, I reached the bottom of my cocktail, and she ordered three more. The taste was sour and sweet, and the bubbles tingled my palate, adding to the liquid courage pumping through my veins.

Marija came back. She grabbed her drink. “The man is gay.”

I smirked, and it didn’t go past her.

“You don’t believe me?”

I shrugged, acting cool. “Saying no to you doesn’t make him gay. It might just be that you were not his type.”

She leaned closer. “I am everyone’s type. He wants someone with a dick, trust me.”

I slurped the rest of my third cocktail, my blood and brain buzzing with a wild, reckless energy.

“If you say so.” The music changed to a slower beat. “Maybe we should use you as a gay detector. We could cash in a lot.”

The tipsy Matilda was actually fun. I smiled at myself, starting to enjoy the effect of cocktails.

Marija stretched her hand across the table. “Challenge accepted?”

Natalia slapped her hand. “Don’t be ridiculous; you are older and smarter. Let it go.”

I didn’t like the way Natalia was defending me, as if I was a baby sister she took out to the town. It sounded more like an insult than support.

I put my palm into Marija’s elegant hand.

“Bet accepted.” I stood up. “What counts as a win?”

Her lips curled upward, a bit too sneaky.

“He has to fall for you. To buy you a drink, offer to spend the night together.”

“I am in.”

Natalia shook her head in disapproval, raising her hands to show that she was not with us in this game.

“If his tongue doesn’t taste your tonsils, you lose the bet.” Marija fixed my eyes.

I was past the point of backing out. Her arrogance pushed me over that tiny, tiny line of hesitation. And the fact that my body just needed an excuse to get closer to him didnt help either.

I turned my back on the two women and, slowly, as if walking toward destiny, started walking toward the man.

***

I just want to say-Hi :) I missed you all so much. And not just writing, but also reading all the lovely stories that were updated while I was gone.

We are starting something new. I hope it keeps your imagination alive and your heart racing. If it doesn’t, please let me know ;) And if it does, please press the heart button!

Many sunny hugs from Balkan.