by Sam Mariano
“I don’t mean it that way.” I realize that probably sounds bitter, and I’m not bitter. I’m not one to regret a relationship because it didn’t last forever. Lots of relationships don’t last forever—most of them don’t. “I just don’t want to have a son like him. I’m not the genetic lottery myself, but Mateo’s genes are a nightmare and I won’t even be around to raise him. What if he turns out like Mateo? What if he pushes people away and locks them up in dungeons?”
“Then he’ll probably spend a lot of his life alone, like Mateo has,” Rafe offers, evenly.
A sigh escapes me. “I’m so mad at him. And I’m so mad at me. Between the two of us, we really fucked everything up.”
Rafe doesn’t respond, but he gives me a faint nod, like he’s listening.
“Mia told me he was lonely.” I dart a glance at him. “When we first met. She knew him better than I did and she told me he was a lonely guy. I can see why now, and I don’t want that for my son.”
After a moment considering my words, Rafe finally speaks. “I don’t think you have to worry about your son growing up to be Mateo. I understand he’s sort of a nightmare, but Mateo is a product of the life he’s lead. Your son isn’t on the same path. I know it probably doesn’t seem like it to you now, but Mateo is an improvement over his father. Matt would have already killed you, not stored you in the dungeon and waited out your pregnancy. They’re different kinds of cruel. After what I saw in Vegas, it seems like Vince is more on his path than Mateo.”
“That’s actually not the first time I’ve heard that.”
Rafe shrugs. “He’s gone now. Hopefully it stays that way. Matt may not have turned out as evil as he did without all the unchecked power.”
I pop another piece of cookie into my mouth. “Mateo has unchecked power.”
“Pretty much.”
“Evil bastard,” I mutter.
He watches me for several seconds without saying anything. “You know what happened to the woman who betrayed Matt in a similar fashion?”
My eyebrows rise. “Similar to my betrayal? I didn’t know such a woman existed.”
Rafe nods. “Adrian’s mom. She helped Belle escape Matt’s clutches. Her motivations were obviously much kinder than yours. She was trying to save her friend, not get her kidnapped. Regardless, her actions were interpreted the same way—as treachery against the king. Do you know how he reacted?”
My interest in this story sinks, along with my stomach.
That seems to be about the response he expected. He nods faintly. “Killed her and her husband. Set her son on fire. You know the rest of the story, I assume.”
I wasn’t exactly hungry to begin with, but now my appetite is completely gone. I start wrapping up the rest of my cookie for later when I’ll be able to enjoy it.
Rafe stands, straightening his suit. He takes a few steps closer and stops outside my cell, looking in at me. “I don’t approve of what you did, for the record.”
“I can’t begin to express how shocked I am,” I murmur.
“I’m not sure you can be trusted, and I don’t work with people I can’t trust. But this isn’t my call, so….” He seems resigned, despite his words. I frown. He’s completely lost me. Now he’s holding his hand out expectantly.
“What…? You want the rest of the cookie?”
“No, I want the phone. It needs to be charged.”
My heart stops beating in my chest. My jaw falls open. I can’t move. For once, I can’t even speak.
“Now,” he adds, since I’m not reacting quickly enough.
I finally close my eyes, my mind racing, trying to decide in a split second how to respond to this curveball. “What phone?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Meg; I don’t have the patience for it. The phone Colette gave you. Give it to me so I can charge it. Or I can just tell Dante you’re not interested,” he offers, shrugging. “Your call.”
My heart kicks back to life and pounds a furious beat in my chest. I understand whatever this is, it’s life or death. If Mateo noticed Colette disappear with me inside the bathroom and sent Rafe on a fishing expedition, giving him my only lifeline is suicide. It’s admission to further collusion, further disloyalty—it won’t matter to Mateo that it’s my only option. That’s the point. He’s the decider. He’s the judge and jury—and even if it means my death, I’m expected to respect his authority and accept the sentence he hands down. I had it right when I called him King Henry, I just didn’t think I was Anne Boleyn. That was supposed to be Mia. This didn’t go according to plan at all.
But if this isn’t a test, if Mateo doesn’t know… if Dante and Rafe really are conspiring against him and throwing me a life raft, I need to grab it.
I don’t want to drown.
There’s no time to think it through. Whatever patience is customary of Rafe in my experience with him thus far, it’s gone now. He’s a split second away from dropping his hand and walking away, I can feel it.
So, I do the only thing I can.
Despite the fear in my gut and the dread in my heart, I grab the cell phone Colette gave me out of its hiding space and hand it to Rafe.
His brown eyes meet mine and hold for a moment, but I can’t read them. I wish I could. I need to know if I just grabbed a rope out of here or signed my own death certificate.
He betrays nothing. Not a single hint, not a sliver of real feeling crosses that handsome face. It sets my already ravaged nerves on edge.
Rafe slips the phone into his jacket pocket, still holding my now-shaky gaze.
Finally, he gives me a curt nod and takes a step back.
“Enjoy the rest of your cookie.”
With that, he walks away. My heart pounds and I can hardly breathe. I rub my chest, trying to ease the anxiety out of it. I already regret what I just did. I had hoped for an instant answer. I had hoped I would be able to tell which side he was on by his response, but the goddamn Morelli men and their unshakable fucking poker faces…
I don’t know.
I don’t know what happens now.
Leaning heavily against the cool cinderblock wall at my back, I do the only thing I can do, now—I wait.
Chapter Eight
Mia
Finding people in this house is a whole production.
Rafe, Adrian, and I got home too close to dinnertime, so I didn’t have time to talk to Mateo or take Lily the present I got her beforehand. With Meg locked away in the dungeon, I’ve been trying to spend more time making myself available to Lily, in case she wants to talk. It’s easier to come bearing an excuse to stop by, though, and since she loves books (and reads them quickly) they’re a foolproof present. Then I just casually swing by her room to drop it off, and oh, hey, maybe she feels like talking since I’m here anyway.
After dinner, Bella and Rosalie take turns distracting me. By the time I make it back to Mateo’s study, he’s gone. I shoot him a text to ask where he’s at, since that’s just simpler.
I go looking for Lily, next. Adrian helped me pick out a book for her while we were out earlier, but I don’t find her in her bedroom where she normally is.
I check my phone, but still no text back from Mateo.
Ugh, this house is too big.
I go back to his study on the off chance he went back there. No luck, but I decide to poke my head in his surveillance room and see if he’s inside. I’m not entirely sure I’m allowed in here. I’ve been inside once before, but with Mateo, and only for a minute.
His creeper room isn’t my favorite part of the house. The wall of surveillance monitors slightly intimidates me. A long time ago, it freaked me out that Mateo was always watching. Privacy doesn’t exist in this household. I’ve never wanted to hurt him, so it’s not like I ever needed privacy for anything sinister, but it has been inconvenient at times.
I’m pretty used to it now. What do I need privacy for? I’m not doing anything I shouldn’t be.
Well, right now I might be. He’s never specifically told me I
’m not allowed in his security room, though. I don’t see why he’d have to hide anything from me now. I already know he pulled out all the stops. I expect he probably spied on me more than I knew about. I try not to think about it. It doesn’t matter anymore.
Being in here reminds me of Colette’s question, though. I don’t know if there’s surveillance on the dungeon, but this is a good opportunity to check. I take a seat in the black rolling desk chair and spin around, looking up at the glowing monitors. Most rooms are empty. Maria has retired to the servants’ quarters for the evening. Elise is in her pajamas, sitting on the couch, playing with West and chatting with Maria. No sign of Adrian. I check the monitors around that one, but they’re not organized to match the layout of the house. It takes me a minute of searching before I give up looking for Adrian’s suite. I don’t actually see any of the rooms up there. Maybe he turned the cameras off up there to give Adrian and his family some privacy.
No dungeon on any of those monitors. There’s a computer on the desk with various folders and icons. They don’t have clear names—CMV, OMV, MCA, folders spanning the last 5 years with various letter and number combinations. I consider clicking on one, but this feels very near an invasion of Mateo’s privacy.
I guess that’s a little silly, considering this is footage he keeps of the whole entire house. He certainly doesn’t respect anyone else’s privacy.
Still, this is his. I shouldn’t explore.
Spinning away from the temptation to snoop, I look up at the wall of monitors again.
“What are you doing in here?”
I jump, kicking the floor and spinning around to see Adrian standing by the door panel, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Looking for Mateo,” I tell him, feeling my cheeks warm.
Adrian cocks his head, taking a step closer. “Well, he’s not in the computer.”
I crack a smile. “Smartass. How long have you been standing there?”
With a shrug lacking in any apologetic properties, he says, “Wanted to see if you’d snoop.”
“Well, I didn’t,” I announce, suddenly relieved I resisted the urge.
“You get a gold star,” he deadpans.
“Your stealth has reached creepy levels,” I inform him. I didn’t even hear him slip inside the room with me.
“My stealth reached creepy levels long ago,” he remarks, lightly amused as he approaches the desk and checks the computer screen.
I quirk a disbelieving eyebrow. “Seriously? You don’t trust me? I didn’t see anything.”
“I know you didn’t,” he says, easily, as he clicks an icon and a box comes up, prompting him for a password. “Avert your eyes, Nancy.”
I sigh dramatically and cover my eyes with my hands. “This is ridiculous.”
He doesn’t answer and I sit there with my hands still over my eyes for another minute, waiting for him to tell me I can move them. He never does. Finally, I give up and move my hands. He’s perusing feeds.
Since he’s leaning right over me, I poke my index finger in his side.
“Ow,” he says,” flashing me an exaggerated pout. “Be nice to me.”
Even though he’s just teasing, my tummy roils with guilt. “I’m always nice to you. What are you doing?”
“Looking for your husband, what do you think I’m doing?”
I look at the monitor, but this is super boring. He checks empty rooms camera by camera, angle by angle. Spying should be more exciting than this.
“Are there cameras in the dungeon?” I ask, after a moment of silence.
“No,” he answers, glancing back at me. “Why? Who asked?”
“No one asked, I just—Well, no, I guess Colette asked.”
Now he scowls. “Colette?”
“At dinner. We were in the kitchen and Meg said Mateo won’t give her a monitor or anything, so how will anyone know if she goes into labor down there? And she sort of has a point. We can’t hear her down there and Maria only goes down for breakfast and dinner. What if she goes into labor when no one is around? What if the labor goes really fast and by the time anyone goes down to check on her, it’s too late?”
“What else did Colette say?”
“I don’t know, I don’t remember. Not much, she was just reasonably concerned about the baby. I guess she figured maybe he has cameras down there he just doesn’t advertise and he’s keeping an eye on her that way.”
Adrian faintly shakes his head, closing a camera and opening another one. “Don’t talk to Colette about security measures. Dante doesn’t live here. He doesn’t need to know about this stuff.”
“I wasn’t talking to Dante, I was talking to Colette.”
“Same difference. Don’t do it.”
“Fine. Sorry,” I mutter.
Adrian shakes his head. “This is why your husband has to torture you all the time. You need common sense lessons.”
“Well, you’re the house tutor,” I inform him, lacing my fingers together over my abdomen and leaning back, watching the screen. “Teach me your ways, oh wise one.”
“Listen to whatever people want to tell you, but never give out information like that to anybody. Speaking of people you’re probably telling things you shouldn’t, how was Rafe today?”
I roll my eyes. “I didn’t tell Rafe anything I shouldn’t. I don’t even have the security clearance to be in here, apparently, so I can’t be that much of a threat.”
“You’re the biggest threat this family has encountered in all my time with them,” he states. “Got a fucking loose cannon rolling around Connecticut, a rat in the basement, a Vegas cousin skulking around the house, Dante and Colette asking about our security measures.” He switches cameras in the library and straightens.
He found Mateo. He’s in the library with Lily, sitting on the couch with a pile of books between them. “Awesome. You’re my hero, Adrian.”
He rolls his eyes as I stand and head out of the room in front of him so he can close up behind me. “Tell your husband I need another raise.”
---
I hate interrupting them, but by the time I make it to the library, it’s nearing time for Lily to head to bed anyway. She always goes to bed early so she can read first—our resident bookworm.
When I come in, she’s wedging half a dozen books beneath her arm.
“That’s quite a haul you have there,” I remark, dangling the beige bag I brought with me. “Room for one more?”
“Maybe. What is it?”
“I’m not sure. It’s green. The cover looks cool.” I reach into the bag and pull out the paperback I bought for her. “I wanted to get you something you’d like and you know I’m not a big reader, so I called in help. Adrian actually picked this out.”
Interest flickers in her eyes and she reaches out with her free hand. “Well, if Adrian picked it out, I’m sure it’s good.”
“He picked it out for you. I doubt he’s read it, but…”
The corners of her mouth tug upward as she reads the back of the book. “You mean Adrian doesn’t read YA fairytale retellings? I am shocked.”
“Maybe he does,” Mateo remarks, bracing his hands behind his head and leaning back on the couch. “We don’t know what he does when we’re not around.”
“Awesome stuff, I bet,” Lily offers.
Mateo smirks.
Lily shoots him a dirty look and heads toward the door. She remembers her manners and tosses a quick “thanks!” at me over her shoulder before she heads out the door.
“Who knew Adrian would prove such a chick magnet?” Mateo jokes.
I smile and take a seat beside him, wrapping my arms around his torso. “We like smart badasses with good shoulders. That’s what I know about females.”
“Thank God for books and free weights,” he says, lightly.
“You should clue Alec in on this secret. He’s got the body part going for him; maybe he wouldn’t be perpetually single if he’d crack open a book from time to time.”
Chuckling lightly
, Mateo says, “Alec has a good head on his shoulders. He’s not always single; he just doesn’t bring his ladies around. He’s seen me borrow from relatives a time too many. Anyway, the women he dates don’t give a damn about books.”
I shrug. “Neither do I; it still does something for me.” I follow up with a scowl. “And he could bring his ladies around. You have me now; you’re not going to borrow from him. If you ever took a shine to another woman, I’d just tell Adrian and she’d disappear without a trace.”
He’s thoroughly unconcerned with my plans to sic Adrian on his fictional mistress. “Oh, would she?”
I nod fervently. “Adrian hates troublemakers.”
“That’s true, he does.” He grabs my hips and lifts me, pulling me into his lap so I’m straddling him He gazes at me warmly, running the back of his knuckles along my jawline. “I missed you too, by the way.”
I’m not really annoyed that Mateo didn’t text me back earlier. He doesn’t sometimes. For someone so important to so many people, he can sure be a pain in the ass to get a hold of.
He likes when I tease though, so I play with his tie and give him the doe eyes. “If you missed me so much, why’d you ignore me?”
His brown eyes glimmer with amusement and he wraps a strong arm around my waist, pulling me off to the side and climbing on top of me in a smooth, practiced motion. “Aw, you’re feeling ignored? I guess we’ll have to fix that.”
“You can try,” I tell him, raising my eyebrows haughtily. “I don’t know if it will work. I’m super offended.”
“And here I thought your playmate would keep you company. Is Rafe not stimulating company?”
His tone is playful, but bringing Rafe into our little game wipes the amusement right out of it for me. The lightness fades right off my face and I can feel his intense gaze on me. He’s paying extra attention to my response, and that only makes me less comfortable.
Since I don’t respond, my disinterest isn’t exactly subtle.
“What’s the problem?” Mateo asks, levelly.
“No problem.”
There really shouldn’t be. I believed his earlier assurance that he isn’t testing me with Rafe. I don’t normally flip flop on trusting Mateo; I trust him even when it’s insane to do so, but Rafe is a wrench thrown between the gears. Mateo and I have a system. Our dynamic is a well-oiled machine, built around the Morelli men I know—the only problematic cog removed when Vince left.