by Sam Mariano
“You want more kids?”
“Maybe, if it’s with the right person. I don’t want to get stuck doing everything on my own again.” I look at him, remembering what Mia said earlier. “What about you? You have Isabella, you still want more?”
“Yeah. I need to have sons. At least one. Normally we Morellis have pretty big broods.”
“Women can’t head the family, huh?” I joke.
“Isabella’s too kind,” he says.
“Well, she’s five. I mean, not that I think she should; something more stable would probably be… Actually, what do the women born Morelli do? Francesca runs the bakery, right?”
“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “Before her, my aunt did. Maybe Isabella will someday.”
“I feel like I can see her more as a florist than a baker. You should buy a flower shop just in case,” I advise.
“I already have one,” he tells me.
“How well-rounded of you.”
He shrugs. “It was part of a cluster of businesses, I just absorbed the whole thing. Strangely enough, the flower shop was not my main target.”
“You buy a lot of businesses?”
Nodding faintly, he says, “I have a lot of money to invest. Every year it’s more. Have to do something with it.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Man, to have your problems.”
He smirks. “Funny the way money works. Those with very little have a hard time getting more; those with way too much can multiply it almost without trying.”
“Does everything come easy to you?”
“No,” he says, watching me. “Money, power, those are easy. Finding genuineness is more difficult. If I ever lost the money and the power, I wouldn’t have anything left. I would rebuild, I would acquire them again, but there’s no one who would stick by me because they want to. People give me their loyalty out of fear, nothing more.”
Frowning lightly, I say, “That can’t be true.”
He shrugs, like it doesn’t matter. “Why did you stop loving your husband?”
My frown drops, replaced by surprise. “Oh. I didn’t really stop, I never started. I mean, I had feelings for him once, at the beginning, but then I started to realize how shaky and unreliable he was and I pulled away. I just also had poor enough timing that right when I started pulling away was when I started getting morning sickness, and I realized I was pregnant.”
“You weren’t married already?”
“No,” I drawl, shaking my head. “Nope. We’d only been together a few months. I don’t think he put condoms on the right way; they broke three different times. Apparently one of those times resulted in Lily.”
“So why’d you marry him?”
I grimace. “At the risk of sounding like a moron, because I was pregnant. I know that’s not a good reason, but I grew up without a father and it didn’t go so well for me. Once I found out Lily was a girl, I just...” I trail off, shrugging. “I thought she’d be safer and more secure inside a traditional family.”
“Safer?” he questions, watching me.
“Creeps tend to target single moms. They have kids, they’re busy, they’re stuck carrying a heavy load on their own. They have vulnerable little girls and they don’t always notice things.”
He doesn’t speak, just continues to watch.
I make a face. “I don’t want to go dark on you.”
“Go dark.”
“One of my mom’s boyfriends…” I trail off, shaking my head. “He was a perv, I was a kid. It sort of wrecked me for a couple of years, and my mom wasn’t—she didn’t want to believe me, so. I mean, obviously Lily would never have to contend with that aspect, but I just didn’t want to open that door to begin with. I’d rather have Lily safe and happy, and if Rodney wouldn’t have been so irresponsible I could’ve made it work, but he just couldn’t stop sinking us.”
“Your mother’s boyfriend—what was his name?”
“Why?”
He shrugs lazily. “Curiosity.”
Smiling lightly, I tease, “You gonna send a goon squad after him?”
He merely raises his eyebrows.
“Oh.” I laugh, taken off-guard. “That’s not necessary. It was a long time ago, I’m fine now, you don’t have to…” I pause, cocking my head in consideration. Actually, the world probably wouldn’t miss him. “Arthur Broderick. If you’re gonna whack him, make sure you show me a picture first so I know you have the right guy.”
Smirking, he says, “I’ll get Adrian on it right away.”
“Wow, power is fun,” I tell him.
“You’re the strangest combination of warm and cold I’ve ever come across,” he states.
“Thank you, I think?”
Nodding, he verifies, “It was a compliment. I find it fascinating.”
Reaching a finger out to trail down his bare chest, I return, “I find you fascinating.”
“Yeah?” he murmurs, the bedding rustling as he pulls me closer. “Let’s see if I can fascinate you one more time tonight.”
I grin, tilting my neck as his lips move there like a magnet, more than happy to be fascinated by him.
Chapter Eleven
Mateo isn’t home for lunch, but he is for dinner. Since it’s not a mandatory Sunday dinner, there aren’t a lot of people there. Francesca is working at the bakery, Vince and Mia only come on Sundays, Joey usually only seems to show up when Vince does. Tonight it’s just Mateo, Alec, and Adrian. Despite it only being the three of them, they all sit in their usual seats, so Mateo’s by himself at the head of the table, Adrian at the opposite end with Alec next to him.
After I bring out the final course, Mateo calls me over.
I roll my eyes, but lean down to take a taste of his food anyway.
He doesn’t stop me, but he doesn’t even watch while I do it. He pulls a manila folder across the table, sliding it in front of me.
I finish the bite of his food, then frown at the folder in confusion. “You want me to open it?”
He nods, grabbing his silverware and cutting into his steak.
I flip it open, and I’m a little stunned—and a little grossed out—to see an 8x10 of Arthur Broderick, clearly taken without his knowledge, as he heads into his apartment building. He’s a good ten years older now and looking pretty haggard, but it’s definitely him.
“Yep, that’s him,” I verify, flipping the folder shut.
“Okay,” Mateo says simply, popping a piece of steak into his mouth.
I know I should probably get back to work, but I just continue to stand there, staring at this peculiar man. I’d been more than a little impressed by the threat the night before, but I didn’t actually expect him to do anything about it. I’m not going to object if he wants to—God only knows how many other single mothers Arthur went on to date after mine, and since my mother didn’t press charges and I never told, he could have a trail of victims behind him.
Mateo Morelli, Chicago crime lord, isn’t exactly the vigilante I envisioned though.
He glances over at me, since I’m still standing there staring at him. I can’t help it. There’s something undeniably sexy about knowing the most ruthless man in Chicago has my back.
“You surprise me,” I tell him.
He lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Kids are off-limits.”
I smile, leaning in to give him a soft kiss. He drops his silverware, his arm moving around me, but before he can pull me into his lap, I pull back. “Just so you know, I’d let you fascinate me even if you were dead broke.”
I don’t give him a chance to respond, giving him a wink and heading back to the kitchen.
---
Mateo isn’t home for the night when I’m finished working. I expect I’ll end up back in his bed again though, so I shower and change into comfier clothes, but still brush on a little light make-up. Despite all the time we’ve spent in bed together, he hasn’t woken up to me yet, so he hasn’t seen me without it. I don’t use a lot to begin with, but given how neat and pretty he li
kes things, I figure I won’t go there yet.
I go back to the main house and find Lily and Isabella in the playroom. Like most rooms in the Morelli homestead, the playroom is large and absolutely ridiculous, but incredible. It’s a long room, and the whole left side is modeled to look like a little city. Brick storefronts with windows and doors—and inside, little play areas that fit the scene, a market, a bookstore, a restaurant, a bakery, a daycare for playing with baby dolls, and one that’s apparently Isabella’s townhouse.
“We’re in Paris,” Lily tells me, running over to show me the bags of stuff she and Isabella just ‘bought.’
“This is…” I have no words, and I just stare at the little city, then at Ju, who smiles in understanding.
“Why don’t we have one of these at our house?” Lily asks.
I shake my head, standing in ‘Paris’ and looking over at the other end of the room. That side looks like fun, too, though slightly more normal—a small indoor playground with a swing and a slide, a ball pit, a table full of art supplies.
“You can stay here forever,” Isabella tells Lily, bringing her a pair of purple sunglasses.
Lily puts them on without question and informs me, “We’re fashion girls.”
“You want us to do a fashion show for you?” Isabella asks excitedly. Then, without waiting for a response, she and Lily disappear into her ‘townhouse’ where there is apparently a dress-up closet.
Moving nearer to the nanny, I ask, “What is this place?”
“Beth loved Paris,” she explains.
“Beth did this?”
Ju shakes her head. “Mateo did it for her after Isabella was born.”
“Wow,” I murmur, looking around at it all again. “This… this is honestly the craziest, sweetest thing ever. My husband wouldn’t even paint Lily’s bedroom. I ended up doing it myself.”
“Mateo wouldn’t have liked your husband.”
I chuckle at that. “No, he wouldn’t have.”
While the girls get ready, Ju rolls out a red rug and grabs two chairs from the storage closet. I’m a little confused, but then the girls come out in plastic heels and pretty dresses, and I remember they’re putting on a fashion show.
I take a seat next to Ju and play the audience, but as I go to pull out my phone to snap pictures, I realize I don’t have one.
Leaning closer to Ju as the girls head to the other end of the red carpet on the Parisian street, I ask, “Can you please take a picture for me? I don’t have my cell phone anymore and I need proof that this actually happened.”
Ju grins, but nods her head, extracting her cell phone and taking pictures while the girls strut their stuff.
---
I’m lying in Mateo’s arms, lightly tracing spirals across his chest. His body is relaxed, his eyes closed, but he’s awake. Alert, despite all indications otherwise.
“I love your body,” I tell him, dragging my finger down his chest to his abdomen.
Squeezing me a little closer, he smiles with his eyes still closed. “I’m pretty partial to yours, too.”
“You’re really a beautiful man,” I inform him.
“Men aren’t beautiful.”
I roll my eyes. “A lot of them aren’t, no. You are.”
“Why are you buttering me up?” he teases, though with him, I can’t be sure he’s teasing.
“I’m not,” I say innocently “Am I not allowed to express appreciation without an ulterior motive?”
He gives me a playfully suspicious look, closing his eyes again.
“See, I did want to ask you for something on an unrelated note, but now I can’t because you’ll think you were right.”
“Ha,” he says, tugging me down on top of him. “I knew it.”
“I wasn’t buttering you up. I really do find you very sexy and beautiful and, at this current moment, a ginormous pain in the ass.”
He snorts with amusement. “No one’s ever called me that before.”
“To your face,” I say, poking him in his perfect chin.
“What do you want?”
“A phone.”
His amusement disappears, his face going blank. “Why?”
“Well, because Adrian took mine and now I can’t even take pictures of Lily. Today the girls put on a fashion show for me and Ju in Little Paris, and I desperately wanted to take a picture, but I couldn’t. Sometimes she falls asleep and she looks all adorable. Or that freaking adorable dress Ju let her have, the rose one that used to be Isabella’s? Oh, my god, it makes my heart ache how cute she looks in it, and I can’t take pictures of any of this stuff. I’m a mom; I need to take pictures.”
Nodding, he says, “I’ll get you a camera.”
“But I still want a phone.”
“I told you no phone.”
“Not to call anyone from my life,” I tell him. “I don’t even know anyone’s number. I always just transfer over from my old contacts. If they don’t transfer, well, nice knowing you. But it would be nice to be able to call Mia from time to time, or even maybe send you texts. I could send you pictures from the shower,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows.
Frowning, not even scooping up my offer of shower sexts, he asks, “Why would you have to call Mia?”
“Well, I wouldn’t have to. But I’d like to.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re friendly?”
I would expect him to be pleased I’m building relationships inside the house, since relationship outside of the house are forbidden, but judging from the look on his face, I’m wrong.
Finally, he says, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
I resume tracing his chest, watching my finger instead of his face. I’m really not a jealous person in the least, but obviously I’m the newcomer in their life, and I have no idea where they left off. “Why? Do you still have feelings for her?”
This startles him so much he sits up. “No. Why would you think that?”
I shrug, glancing at him. “Why else wouldn’t you want us to be friends?”
“Mia… We have a complicated relationship. She likes me, but she doesn’t. I don’t want her to say anything to you that…” He stops, scowling, and doesn’t finish his thought. “How did you even know Mia and I had a history?”
“It doesn’t seem like a secret,” I comment. “Everyone knows.”
“Don’t play detective, Meg,” he advises me. “Don’t pry into my past. You may not like what you find.”
I shrug, watching him. “You could just tell me, then there’s nothing I could find.”
“Or you could do as I say. I’ll just tell everyone not to talk to you,” he tells me, shrugging. “They won’t tell you anything.”
Frowning with concern, I sit back. “What are you so afraid they’ll tell me?”
“Nothing,” he says promptly, meeting my eyes. “I just don’t want you investigating me.”
“I’m not. I wasn’t. I just like Mia, and I don’t get to talk to anyone I used to know. Am I really not allowed to have a friend here, even someone in your own family?”
“I’ll talk to her. Then I’ll get back to you.”
“You have to screen her before I get the okay?” At this point I’m wrapping the sheet around myself and pulling away, confused and a little alarmed. “You’re starting to freak me out more than anything she could possibly tell me.”
“Fine, I’ll get you a phone. I won’t talk to her,” he says, way too easily for the fight he’s just put up.
“Yes, you will.”
“I just said I wouldn’t.”
I’m not going to accuse him of lying, but I cross my arms, totally not believing him. I really wasn’t too worried about whatever had been between him and Mia, but now that he’s on a mission to silence everyone, I feel like I need to find out.
“I know you do bad things. Did you do something bad to Mia?”
He doesn’t flinch. “No.”
“Then what’s the issue?”
“No iss
ue,” he says, shrugging. “Like I said, I’ll get you a phone.”
“Fine,” I say, dropping it. I know he’ll warn her off before he gets me a phone, and that’s too alarming to ignore. I’ll just have to make sure I talk to her before he gets the chance. “Well, I should probably get back so I can put Lily to bed.”
“No, stay,” he says, grabbing me as I go to crawl away.
“Mateo…”
He ignores my meager protest, pulling me down on the bed and climbing on top of me. “Stay.”
“I need to…”
He shakes his head, leaning down and kissing his way down my neck. “Fuck me? Yes, I agree. I believe you promised to wrestle me to the ground and ride my cock until I let you come—that hasn’t happened yet.”
“I was very horny when I said that,” I point out.
His hand moves between my legs. “Well, let’s see if I can get you that horny again.”
Chapter Twelve
Rapping lightly on Elise’s bedroom door, I rock back on my heels and wait. Dread and anticipation fill me as I do precisely what he just told me not to—investigate him.
It’s his own fault. I gave him a chance to come clean, and I wouldn’t even be pushing the issue, but he has to go and be a controlling ass. If I don’t ask tonight, he’ll threaten his whole staff tomorrow, I just know he will.
Elise comes to the door, looking mildly surprised to see me. “Oh, hey Meg.”
“Hey,” I say, wrapping my arms around myself. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure,” she says, opening the door and stepping back.
I haven’t been in Elise’s room before. I’m pretty sure she’s the same age as me—or at least close—but I’m surprised to find her room is very girlish. The walls are cotton candy pink, her bedding floral whites and pinks. She has a white tufted chair in the far left corner, but there are no other chairs in her room, so she curls her leg beneath her on the bed.
“Everything okay?”
“I kind of wanted to ask you a question,” I tell her. “I don’t want to make you feel weird or anything, and I certainly don’t want you to feel pitted against Mateo.”