Entrapment: Mateo's POV: A Morelli Family Deleted Scenes Collection (Books 1-7)

by Sam Mariano

  “The worst,” he agrees, rolling his eyes.

  I smile faintly, glancing down at my drink and bringing it up to take a sip. I think that’s part of her charm, but I don’t add that, for obvious reasons. “She wouldn’t need me if you—” I stop short of the truth, because it’s tactless. It’ll just piss him off if I finish that sentence. Sparing his pride, I redirect. “You’ve never been with someone like Mia before, so it’s perfectly understandable that you don’t know what to do with her.” He’s had a while to figure it out, though. That he hasn’t by now if frankly fucking appalling. I don’t say any of that. “I do. If you can put your pride aside, I can teach you.”

  Whatever moment of camaraderie I thought we shared for a split second must’ve either been a misread on my part or a misstep on his. His eyes have a frankly murderous gleam as he stares at me now. “Are you fucking serious? You want to give me Mia lessons? She’s my girlfriend. Mine. I don’t need you to tell me how to handle her.”

  My eyebrows rise with surprise. “Are you serious?” This kid has to know I could summon Mia to the study right this moment and have her sucking my dick in front of him in under five minutes. He’s her boyfriend, and he couldn’t manage that with five months of prep time. Yeah, obviously I can’t teach him a damn thing. “If this is your idea of handling her, I’d love to know what you think failure looks like.”

  This pisses him off. I kind of figured it might, but if he can’t even keep his cool now, he doesn’t stand a chance dealing with Mia. She doesn’t like his temper. I mean, she could, if he’d wield it the right way, but he probably never will. This is probably a waste of my time. He’s not too old to learn, but he is too stubborn.

  “Well, since my cock is the one inside her every night, I think I’m doing all right.”

  He thinks that’ll piss me off, since it would piss him off. So I give him a smile that tells him I couldn’t give fewer fucks and place a mocking hand over my heart as if wounded. “Ouch.” Vince rolls his eyes in disgust, but since he brought it up, I lower my hand and remark, “Why don’t we call this lesson one? Fuck her more frequently than that.” His face goes completely slack, but I keep talking. “Mia likes to be fucked more than once a day. Give her a good morning fuck, too. Pull her hair, kiss her neck, give her an orgasm—it’s a good way to start the day anyway, isn’t it?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” he demands, astonished. “Are you…?” His astonishment is turning to red-faced anger. He’s so livid he’s lost the ability to finish sentences.

  I shrug. “It’s good advice. I have more; I’m happy to share.”

  “You’re a sick fuck, you know that?”

  “And you’re too nice,” I inform him. “Toughen up. If you can be set off that easily, you’ll never be in control of anything, especially not Mia.”

  His jaw clenches and he can’t even look at me. His knuckles are white as he grips the glass like it’s my throat. “Are we done here?”

  “I suppose so. You’re making a mistake, but it’s yours to make. I let you have her back and you’re squandering it. You’re not making her happy. You’re not letting her make you happy. There are much better ways to do this, Vince.”

  “You’ll have to excuse me for rejecting my girlfriend’s rapist’s sex advice,” Vince says, doing his best to murder me with his glare.

  I could say some pretty shattering shit in response to that, but I’m trying to be nice today, so I refrain. “Getting over that is lesson two. She has, so why haven’t you? At the very least, stop punishing her for it. It wasn’t her fault to begin with, she’s just perilously trusting.”

  “I’m not talking about this with you. I’m not talking about any of this with you.”

  I take a long sip of my drink. “Well, think it over. This is the last chance you’ll get to do right by her, so I would take it under advisement. If you choose not to, that’s on you.”

  “Mia isn’t going anywhere.”

  Cocky little shit. I could give him the keys to the kingdom, but I can’t make him turn the key in the lock.

  “Okay,” I say, pushing off the desk and retrieving his empty glass. “Well, that’s all, then.”

  He stands and I deposit both glasses on the edge of my desk, crossing my arms and watching as he walks toward the door. I feel bad for him, to be honest. He’s letting his anger and pride get the best of him, and he’ll end up paying a steep price for it. Mia’s a lot to lose.

  He slows to a stop about halfway to the door. Without looking back at me, he asks, “Did she say something to you?”

  “Yes.”

  It’s as if a physical weight is suddenly added to his shoulders. “Of course she did,” he mutters.

  “You have Ben’s temper,” I remark.

  Turning back to look at me coldly, he corrects me. “I have Matt’s temper.”

  I regard him for a moment, wondering not for the first time if I’ve underestimated him in the great scheme of things. There’s a darkness in Vince, a sleeper cell, and I don’t especially want to wake it up.

  Because if that happens, I’ll have no choice but to kill him.

  Then I’ll have to deal with Mia’s hysterics. Meg would probably be pissed at me. Francesca would be distraught. Adrian might disapprove. It would be a hassle, overall.

  But my father was dangerous, and Vince has it in him to be, too.

  “If you hurt her again, I’ll do more than punch you this time,” I warn him.

  He glares. “You’re the one who hurts her, not me.”

  Instead of engaging in some bullshit pissing contest like he seems inclined toward at the moment, I meet his gaze and tell him very simply, “I will not warn you again, Vince. When you walk out that door, when you go home to Mia tonight, do yourself a favor and leave the weight of this grudge behind. She’s sorry for whatever you need her to be sorry for. Accept it and move on.”

  “Why warn me at all?” Vince asks.

  “Because I love Mia,” I tell him, watching his face freeze, nearly feeling bad for it, but I don’t pause. “And Mia still loves you. But if you kill what’s left of that love, if you chase her back into my arms, I will never let her go again.”

  As if he’s turned to stone, Vince just stands there fuming, waiting for more.

  I have nothing more to say, so I take a seat at my desk, dismissing him as I draw out my phone and shoot a text to Adrian. I keep an ear on Vince, but I’d like him to leave now, so I don’t pay him any more attention.

  I wonder if he’s tempted to shoot me again.

  I’m sure he is.

  That makes me smile.

  Because of course he won’t. He’d love to, but he knows better. He has more to fear than my wrath, should I survive. Than Adrian’s retribution, supposing I didn’t.

  At the core of it, it’s the same reason I don’t kill him.

  Mia would never forgive him, either.

  “I hate you,” Vince states.

  “I know,” I reply, casually.

  Finally, he turns and storms out of my study.

  Between

  RESISTING MATEO

  and WINTER BLUES

  Movie night

  Pre-Winter Blues

  Meg

  “I think it’s the yellow one.”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head and staring at the three pronged nightmare in my hand. “I already tried the yellow one in the middle.”

  “You’ve tried all of them in the middle,” Mia points out, sprawled in the floor next to me, flipping through a little white paper manual. “None of them have worked. It defies logic.”

  “If you think you can do better, by my guest,” I state, sourly, as I glare at the cords keeping us all from family movie night. “This is all your fault, you know. You just had to buy a new one. The old one played all our movies just fine, but no, you had to ‘improve’ things.”

  Wrinkling up her nose at my criticism, she complains, “This one was more energy efficient. I’m sorry I care about the planet.”<
br />
  “Please.” I jam the yellow prong into the top hole. “We live in a McMansion on steroids; we’re not doing the planet any favors.”

  “I know that, that’s why I’m trying to reduce the size of our carbon footprint by replacing—”

  I cut her off, looking back at Mateo, lounging on the couch, watching us struggle like the gallant asshole he is. “Never should’ve sent this one to college,” I inform him. “Now she’s gonna hassle us about doing our part to save the world. I thought I got enough guilt from Captain Planet, but now I have this pain in the ass yapping at me to change out the appliances.”

  Mia plants her hands on her hips, even though she’s sitting down. “Adrian offered to do this for us and you declined. All your pain is self-inflicted. If you would’ve let him do it, we would already be watching the movie.”

  “And if you hadn’t replaced the old Blu-Ray player that worked like a dream, we would already be watching the movie. If we had to go green, couldn’t you have chosen something that wouldn’t annoy me? Make Maria change to organic cleaners. Start refilling water bottles. Make Mateo switch to biodegradable body bags. All better choices and none of them inconvenience me.”

  Mateo pipes in. “I already use biodegradable body bags.” Then, lifting an eyebrow in mock-disapproval, he adds, “Some of us care about the planet, Meg.”

  Mia bites her lip, trying not to smile as she shakes her head. “You are both awful.”

  “That’s why you love us, you little psycho,” I mutter, popping the third plug in and looking up at the television.

  My shoulders sag in defeat. Still no picture.

  “Ready for me to do it?” Mateo asks, knowingly.

  “Never,” I declare. I will go down with this ship. If I have to act out the movie myself, I will do that before I accept his smug help. “I am perfectly capable of doing it myself.”

  Mia sighs dramatically, dropping the manual and flattening herself on the ground. “We’re going to be here all night.”

  “It’s my night anyway,” I point out. “What do you have to do that’s so pressing?”

  “Stuff,” she says. “Anything that isn’t sitting here watching you be defeated by a cord.”

  “We should go get snacks,” Mateo states, his eyes lingering on Mia as she lies there in the floor.

  Mia shakes her head, lips pressed together like she regrets the denial even before she issues it. “We won’t be back before the kids. Rosalie will think we bailed. She’ll be pissed.”

  “And nobody wants to deal with that,” I state, shaking my head. Did I try yellow on bottom? I’m positive I’ve tried every single variation at least three times, but the damn thing won’t work. “Maybe this is defective. Maybe I’ve put them in the right order but there’s no power to the cords or something. Like, a frayed wire on the inside and we just can’t see it because… it’s inside.”

  “At least now I know I didn’t keep either of you from a rewarding career in robotics,” Mateo remarks.

  “Shush, you,” I tell him, tossing a playfully evil glare over my shoulder.

  Mia gives him a dirty look, too. “Yeah, Meg hasn’t even let me try. Who knows? Maybe I have the magic touch.”

  “I’m going to kill you,” I inform her.

  She looks up and grins at me.

  The Calvary comes rushing in, a gray and yellow plastic hammer lifted in the air like a warrior. “I’m the fixer girl!”

  Rosalie launches her tiny body through the room, slowing to a stop as she looks up at the screen, ascertains we still have not fixed it, and then eyes up the movie player.

  Even though I hate the damn thing, I hug it protectively to save it from Rosalie’s hammer. “Is that the only tool you brought?”

  Lily and Isabella finally saunter into the room behind her. They accompanied her to the playroom to get her tools, but she came back alone. Rosalie often enters the room alone because she has more energy than everyone else in the house combined.

  Isabella brings the play toolset over and gives it to Rosalie while Lily takes a seat in the second row, behind Mateo.

  Tilting his head back, he asks her, “You want to help your mom out? I don’t think she has this under control.”

  “You could help,” Lily states.

  Mateo looks at us in the floor. “Not until they ask.”

  Lily nods, sighing and sinking back against the seat. “So we’re going to be here all night. Cool.”

  “What are we even watching?” Isabella asks as she takes a seat next to Lily.

  Rosalie lulls me into a false sense of security by playing with her tape measure, so I’m not prepared for the sudden whack! as her plastic hammer comes down on the little box of evil.

  Mia rockets up, eyes wide. “Whoa, take it easy, Thor.”

  Rosalie looks up at Mia, baffled by this command. “But I’m a fixer girl!”

  “Why don’t you go fix Daddy?” I suggest.

  Mia leans in to stage whisper, “She doesn’t have the right tools for that.”

  “Keep it up,” Mateo tells her.

  She flashes him a grin over her shoulder, then snatches the cord out of my hand.

  “Hey!”

  “Nope.” She yanks the movie player out of my hand, tipping it up and looking at the three holes, then the three ended cord of doom.

  Since she’s taking over, I push up off the floor and scoop up Rosalie.

  “I wanna fix it,” Rosalie complains, holding up her hammer. “I getted my hammer!”

  “I know, and I’m so happy you got your hammer, but why don’t you fix the couch with it?” Seeing I have her interest, I walk her over to Mateo. He holds out his arms to receive the package and she drops onto his lap. She’s there for a split second before she crawls off him and goes over to start banging on the arm.

  Mateo looks up at me, amused. “I’m so glad you sent her to get her tools.”

  “I figured you would be,” I tell him, dropping into the seat beside him and wrapping my arms around his torso.

  His right arm moves around me and he tugs me close, dropping a kiss on top of my head. “You’re a stubborn woman.”

  “I’m telling you, there’s something wrong with the wiring. That cord does not—”

  “Ha!” Mia’s arms shoot up in the air as she declares her victory.

  My jaw drops as the bastard screen lights up. I let go of Mateo to sit forward and point at Mia. “Witch!”

  With exaggerated smugness, she pops up off the ground and struts over to the couch to take her seat on Mateo’s other side. “You can buy me that robotics set anytime. I bet I can make that work, too.”

  “Agent of Satan,” I accuse, still unable to grasp how she made it work. “How did you do it? How did you… I plugged it in 5,000 times. I put them in every which way, and it didn’t work. What the fudge?”

  Rosalie pivots to climb up in my lap and wag her finger at me. “That’s a mean word, Mommy.”

  I catch her tiny finger and move it out of my face. “Fudge is not a mean word, squirt. You’re thinking of a different word.”

  “Nuh uh,” she says, shaking her head at me. The look on her little face is unsettling sure of herself—I almost believe her. “That’s a bad word, Mommy.”

  I give her a good tickling and she shrieks, crawling over to Mateo and Mia for protection. Mia settles her in her lap naturally and drops a kiss on top of her head. “So, should we start this movie, or what?”

  “Not until you explain your black magic.”

  Glancing over at Mateo, Mia asks, “Should I tell her?”

  “If you ever want to start this movie, probably.”

  Nodding, Mia leans forward, her blue eyes dancing with amusement. “You didn’t plug in the power cord.”

  “Impossible!”

  Lily is not up for round two of this debate. She leans forward and steals the remote control off the arm, raising it up and navigating the screen. “I don’t have all night, folks.”

  Now I tilt my head back. �
��Why, you got a hot date?”

  “I’m reading Harry Potter, so kinda.” She pushes play, drops the remote, and leans back in her seat. “We should’ve brought snacks,” she adds.

  “That’s what I said,” Mateo volunteers.

  “Yes, but she actually means snacks,” I inform him.

  “Maybe I did, too,” he offers, shrugging before settling one arm around Mia and one arm around me. “Now we’ll never know.”

  “Shhhhhh.” Rosalie leans forward and scowls at both of us.

  “Yeah, we’ve only seen this movie 34,000 times,” Lily says, in mock agreement. “Stop talking; you’ll ruin it.”

  “Where’d you get that attitude from, kid?” I ask her.

  “Really?” she asks.

  “Oh. Right.”

  A Wicked Halloween

  Takes place the Halloween before Winter Blues

  Mia

  “I couldn’t be happier,” Meg sing-songs, gazing over at me from her side of the vanity.

  I roll my eyes, adjusting the black wig on my head. “Yes, I know.”

  “No, I couldn’t be happier,” she continues.

  “We get it, Glinda, you’re super stoked that you’re not the one covered in green paint.”

  “Thank goodness!” she enthuses, winking at me.

  I wrinkle my green nose up at her and look down at my cleavage. “At least my boobs are defying gravity in this dress.”

  “Lame. That was a lame use of Wicked lyrics. You’re suspended from using any more of them for the rest of the night.”

  “Do I get to carry a broom? Because I have a very good idea of where I want to shove the stick.”

  She feigns surprise. “Ooh, kinky. I’m not into that, sorry.”

  “Well, I’m not into wearing ugly wigs and green paint all over my face, but here we are.”

  Meg turns in her big, poofy dress and cocks a perfect eyebrow at me. “Hey, I paid dearly to be Glinda. You get him for three nights in a row for wearing body paint for two hours.”