Chapter Twenty Five
Vince
By the time we make it back to the mansion, it’s well past lunch. I have no idea what time—if at all—Mia was willing to let me play with Dom, but now I feel shitty about missing it. When Carly suggested we get a hotel, I wasn’t thinking about that.
We went to the store so I could get Dom a couple presents. That was Carly’s idea. We were already out on our own, so why not?
I shower the smell of last night’s alcohol off myself and get dressed, then I go to look for Mia. I just end up wandering around the house, though. I don’t know where she’s at and I don’t have her phone number. For all I know, she’s not even here. I check the playroom and she’s not there. I check the servants’ quarters since I guess she’s friends with Elise now. I even check Meg’s room, but no one is there, either.
There’s only one place I haven’t checked. Once upon a time, I would have never walked through those doors without an invitation. Not only because Mateo would never be okay with it, but because the bed he fucked her in during those awful days is the last place I want to see Mia.
Right now I don’t care, though. Right now I’m inoculated. I woke up with Carly, remembering clearly how happy she makes me. I can handle finding Mia in their bedroom, if she’s even in there.
I rap lightly on the door, but no one answers. I turn the knob and push the door open anyway, just to make sure. I probably shouldn’t have. For all I told myself I could deal, if I’d opened that door and seen him fucking her, I would’ve had to pour straight bleach in my eyes.
But he’s not inside. She is. Mia’s asleep on the bed with Dom on her chest. Her shirt’s not entirely covering her breast so I try not to look there, but Dom’s sleeping with his tiny mouth hanging open like a baby bird, waiting for food. Damn, he’s cute.
I should definitely leave them here, but now I don’t know if I’ll get to play with him at all and I want to see him up close without Mateo breathing down my neck. I approach the bed, setting the bag down at the foot. Mateo has a giant-ass bed. I guess it’s a king, but it looks bigger. Mia looks so small curled up on it with our son.
Our son.
I start to sit down, then decide to explore first. When Isabella was first born, Beth and Mateo kept her in an adjoining bedroom. After Beth died, he turned into an oversized storage closet, but I have a feeling Mia wouldn’t want Dom to be far away, so I wander out to see if that’s Dom’s bedroom.
Seems like it is.
The bedroom has been remodeled since Isabella, obviously. Now it’s blue and gray, with elephant paintings on the wall and a soft, blue elephant play mat thing in the floor that Dom must play on. There are pictures hanging up on the wall—three black and white shots, newborn photos. Christmas newborn photos. The middle one is Mia, Mateo and Dom in front of the big-ass Christmas tree he puts up in December. Flanking it are black and white newborn photos of Dom by himself. On the next wall, three more pictures. One for each month. He’s wearing a little sticker that looks like a tie, and it reads 1 month, 2 months, 3 months in each picture.
I’ll never have any of these. There will never be a picture of Dom on my wall. Mateo gets to stand there with Mia in a picture, acting like his father. He’ll always have Dom’s pictures on his walls, him napping in his bed while he works, his mother in his bed every night.
I try to shake off those thoughts as I drift over to the bookshelves on the wall. Carly wanted to buy Dom a copy of Goodnight Moon since she used to read it to Laurel, so we did. I’m relieved to see it’s not one of the books he already has on the shelves.
On the corner of the bookshelf, aimed directly at the crib, is a security camera. Or is it just a standard baby monitor? I guess it could go either way. Someone is probably watching me right now, alerting the fucking watchdogs to come retrieve me.
I should probably go.
I don’t, but I should.
I do leave Dom’s nursery, but only to wander back to Mia’s bedside. She’s still fucking cute when she sleeps. It’s honestly annoying. She’s close to the middle of the bed, probably so she didn’t have to worry about Dom falling off. There’s plenty of room for me to sit on the edge. Her body shifts slightly as I take a seat. Flashes of Vegas come back to me, me asking her to fix my broken heart; Mia helpless, eyes shining, telling me she couldn’t, she didn’t know how.
Carly knew how.
Maybe it’s Dom. Maybe he’s why my thoughts keep drifting back to Mia. This is the exact opposite of how I was raised. I know in most modern households divorce and blended families are commonplace, but not mine. I’ve never known a Morelli man who had to watch his son be raised by someone else. It just doesn’t happen. Our women belong to us ‘til death—theirs, generally, but death nonetheless. Mia broke that rule and traded up. I know that wasn’t her intention, she just slipped and fell into it, but this is weird as hell to me. Just seeing her again triggered things in me, but seeing her and finding out she had my baby?
I don’t even understand how that happened.
In a hundred million years, I would have never imagined Mateo letting her have my baby. He must have known it could be mine. Mia can’t lie. How would Mateo Morelli, of all fucking people, accept that his wife was having another man’s child?
I know I don’t deserve any kind of rights after what I put her through, but damn, if it doesn’t hurt to know he’s going to grow up never even knowing me. Mateo is 90% of the reason I didn’t want to have kids when Mia and I were together, and now he’s going to raise my son.
Would she have been happy with me if I’d given her that baby when we were together? If we’d had Dom together, if his conception hadn’t been mean and ugly? I bet she would have tried harder with a baby involved. She wouldn’t have caved to Mateo so easily. She would have looked out for Dom, tried to keep us all together and happy. Mia was born to have a family. I bet she’s a great mom.
I glance back at the door, half expecting to see Adrian or Mateo standing there, glaring at me, but there’s no one. Maybe they aren’t watching the cameras on live view. Or, if they are, they probably just wouldn’t think to look for me in Mateo’s room.
Fuck it. I crawl as gently as I can to the other side of the bed, right next to her. Dom’s hand is slung over her shoulder. I settle into Mateo’s spot next to her and reach out to touch his hand, but Mia stirs. I freeze. She doesn’t open her eyes, just sighs and eases Dom down between us as she snuggles up against my side.
Well, shit.
I should say something. She thinks I’m Mateo. I’m in his room. In his bed. Lying beside his drowsy wife. Mia’s not the most conscientious half-asleep person; if him fucking her in my bed all those years ago wasn’t evidence enough, this sure is.
Dom throws an arm over mine, turning his face and snuggling my arm.
Yeah, I’m not getting up. Maybe I can sneak out before she wakes up. She’ll just think she dreamed Mateo came home. First I’m going to let Dom cuddle my arm for a little bit, because this is fucking adorable.
---
Something cold and hard presses into my temple so hard that my head moves. My head knocks into Mia’s. I jerk upright and the hard object is still pressed against my temple, but as the sleep fog quickly clears, dread creeps down my spine and I know exactly what it is.
I raise my hands to indicate I don’t want trouble, turning to meet Mateo’s glare as he holds his gun to my head.
“Relax,” I say, evenly. “I didn’t touch her.”
“Get the fuck off my bed,” Mateo returns, his tone caught somewhere between utterly calm and unrepentantly murderous.
I clear my throat, easing away from Mia. Dom moved around in his sleep so he’s snuggled up against Mia again. Since he’s not on my arm anymore, I’m able to move without waking him up.
The noises—or the head-knock—are enough to wake Mia, though. She rises up, twisting my way. Her sleepy smile promptly melts into alarm and her blue eyes widen. “Mateo, what the hell are you—?” She halts, realizing my presence in her bed makes no more sense than him standing there with his gun drawn. Then she looks down and sees her boob popped out of her shirt. She sighs irritably, tucking it away and pushing off the bed.
Since she was sleeping when I came in, she has no idea what is going on, but she still runs around the bed, putting a calming hand on Mateo’s chest, moving her body in front of him and doing her best to ease him back. He’s immovable, so her best effort fails, but she keeps trying to soothe him. “Nothing happened. He wasn’t—I don’t know—” She casts a look back at me for help, but realizes quickly there is no good explanation for why I’m on Mateo’s bed, so she gives up logic and just tries to snuggle him into putting his gun down, leaning in and murmuring things I can’t quite hear in his ear as she runs her hands over various parts of his body—his chest, his stomach, his arm, his back, his shoulder.
He continues to stare at me and I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he would love nothing more than to shoot me dead, right here, right now. Whatever illusion of civility he’s maintained since the moment he called me to tell me he had my father killed, the bloodlust burning in his eyes right now is what’s real. He wants me dead, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
His tone is hard and he keeps his gaze on me, but addresses Mia. “You were told not to go off alone with him. Anywhere, but I would think specifically not in a bed goes without saying.”
“I didn’t know he was—I was nursing Dom and I guess we fell asleep. I didn’t…”
Now he addresses me. “You walked into my bedroom and climbed into bed with my wife without an invitation?”
Mia grimaces, looking back at me. I glance at her, but our exchanging looks in front of him just seems to piss him off more.
“Look, I wasn’t trying to—I brought Dom a present, I was looking for Mia. I just wanted to see him. He was just right here—”
Mateo cuts me off. “I sent a picture of your little cuddle session to your girlfriend before I woke you up, so have fun with that later.”
“Goddammit, Mateo.”
“Hey, if I had to see it…”
Mia sighs, scowling and walking away from him. Dom is waking up since we’re all being so loud, and now her focus is on him rather than the two adults who should be able to handle themselves.
“Put that away, please,” she says to Mateo, as she bends to scoop up Dom and draw him against her chest.
“Get off the bed,” Mateo says again.
I ease forward, slowly moving off the bed. It’s uncomfortable for a variety of reasons, but right now the most pressing is because he doesn’t move, and I have to climb off the bed and stand right in front of him. We usually like to keep half a room’s length between us. Standing this close makes it too fucking tempting to try to kill each other. Now we’re face to face, less than a foot apart. I don’t even care that I’m in the wrong here—he never cared when he was, so why should I? I meet his gaze with defiance and see the pure loathing I feel for him mirrored right back at me.
For a split second, just a fraction, I think about moving on the bastard. There’s no Adrian in this bedroom right now. I’d only have to fight Mateo. I could shoot the bastard with his own fucking gun.
The idea dissipates as fast as it popped up. We can’t wrestle around with a gun when Mia and Dom are in the room. As if to remind us of that fact, Mia murmurs reassuring things to Dom on the other side of the bed. My gaze is still locked with Mateo’s. He’s probably entertaining similarly murderous thoughts, considering whether or not he could drag Mia through the trauma of watching me bleed out on her bedroom floor. He’d probably have to switch rooms; she wouldn’t be able to sleep in this one without thinking about me. I’m thinking about Dom’s safety, but this bastard is probably just considering the inconvenience of having to remodel.
Hatred gleams in his eyes as strongly as what I feel for him, but neither of us can do shit about it. Blocked by Mia, just like fucking always.
Mia’s voice is light and cheerful, clearly addressing Dom as she attempts to redirect our mutual hatred toward something more pleasant. “Do you want to see your present? I heard there’s a present in here for a handsome little boy.”
I lift my eyebrows and continue to hold Mateo’s gaze, but I gesture toward them. “Can I go give my son his toy?”
“That is not your son,” Mateo states. “That is my son.”
My jaw locks. I know he says it to piss me off, but it works. He always knows exactly what to say to make me see red. I’m sore enough trying to accept that this son I didn’t know I had with the girl I first fell in love with exists, and now my sworn enemy is taunting me about it. He’s probably not even nice to Dom. Probably doesn’t even fucking like him, just likes having possession of something that rightfully belongs to me.
Anger courses through my veins and my hands clench into fists. Fists that I would love to smash into his smug fucking face. I try to keep it under control, but it’s hard. I’m helpless here. He’s stolen the life that was supposed to be mine and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Come over here, Vince,” Mia says.
Mateo’s gaze snaps to Mia, but she looks at me, consciously avoiding his gaze. She nods her head, eyes slightly widened, as if to silently say, “Hurry up, what the fuck are you waiting for?”
I step around Mateo and approach the foot of the bed where I left the bag when I came in. I don’t want to do this in front of Mateo. I want him to go die. Instead, he stands watch.
I try hard to ignore him, but I can feel the unease in Mia, too. I tell myself he’s making her feel that way with his claustrophobic fucking presence, but there’s an outside chance it’s me. The last time I was in bed with her, probably not such a good memory. For all that she’s trying to divert Mateo’s response to it, she’s probably as confused as he is. Maybe more confused.
Regardless of her confusion, regardless of the uncomfortable position I put her in without her consent, Mia sits down on the edge of the bed with her back to Mateo and Dom in her lap and gives me a little smile of encouragement.
God, she’s so fucking sweet.
This is torture.
I need to get the hell away from her, but I want to stay.
I need to go find Carly. If Mateo really sent that picture to her, she can’t be fucking happy with me right now.
Clearing my throat, I take a tentative seat on the edge of the bed and draw out the book first. “Carly helped me pick this one out,” I say, offering the book to Mia.
The mention of Carly mutes Mia’s smile. For a split second, I think it’s jealousy, then she says, “Aw, man, she’s going to hate me now.” Casting a look back at Mateo, she asks, “Did you really send that picture?”
“I don’t speak just to hear the sound of my own voice. Of course I sent the picture.”
Mia sighs forlornly, but focuses her attention back on Dom, pointing at the cover. “Look at that. Isn’t that cool? We’ll have to read this one tonight.”
I pull out the next one, but it makes me sad for a lot of reasons. It’s a soft stuffed dog in a Superman costume. When Carly saw it at the store she got all excited, but the Superman thing is an inside joke, so I can’t explain it. I might’ve told Mia, but not with Mateo standing guard.
Now I’m torn between wanting to hurry up and leave, wanting to visit with Dom, and needing to go find Carly anyway to make sure she hasn’t packed her bag, called herself a car, and left me here to deal with this mess on my own. I don’t know what I’ll do if she has. I wouldn’t be able to blame her, but in less than 24 hours I’ve gone from feeling like I stood firmly on solid ground to feeling like I’m walking through quicksand; without Carly here to pull me out, I don’t know how to keep from sinking.
“Superman,” Mia says, guiding Dom’s hand over to feel the dog’s soft fur. “Look at that.”
I try to ignore Mateo’s eyes boring into the back of my head and offer Dom a little smile, holding the dog out to him. His eyes are wide and he trembles with excitement at the sight of it. I can’t help grinning, glancing up at Mia. “I think he likes it.”
She nods her head, smiling. “That’s definitely what he does when he sees a toy he wants. You made a great choice. Good job.”
Mia helps him hold the dog since it’s too big for him, but he immediately tries to eat it. I’m sensing a theme with this kid. Big smiles, then he tries to eat it.
I really want to hold him, and I doubt I’ll have another chance now. If Mia would’ve snuck away to let me play with him before, she’s not going to after Mateo specifically told her she’s not allowed to be alone with me. I loathe having to ask—not Mia, I’m fine with asking Mia, she’s his mom, but I don’t want to ask in front of Mateo. If it’s the only chance I’ll get though, I have to take it.
“Can I hold him for a minute?”
Mia’s eyes search my face for a second, then she looks back at Mateo. Her mouth forms a little pout and she whips out the puppy dog eyes.
“Jesus Christ,” Mateo mutters, annoyed, but he seems to give her permission, however reluctant.
She turns back to me with a smile and lifts Dom, handing him over. My heart kicks up a couple speeds as he comes at me, but I take him, drawing him against my chest. His little head bobs as he takes in his new surroundings and looks up at my face. His tongue darts out and leaves slobber all over his chin. Mia reaches for a cloth and scoots closer, dabbing his chin dry. He gives her a big grin and dives for her face. She lets him catch her and drag her face up so he can place a big, open-mouthed kiss on her cheek.
Grinning, she leans in and gives him a flurry of cheek kisses that make him giggle before leaning back to give me a minute with him.
The clear love between them makes my heart ache. Makes everything ache. I want to be a part of this. I’m supposed to be a part of this. This should be mine, and I want it. I look down at his happy face and it hurts. His smile hurts. Mia’s maternal joy hurts.
Too many thoughts race through my head. Impulsive thoughts, thoughts that I should’ve hid her better in Vegas. I should’ve kept her hidden from Rafe. I should’ve known better than to let her around any dominant assholes. I shouldn’t have taken her there at all. I should’ve just taken money from my dad and taken Mia somewhere remote, a house in the fucking sticks. I could’ve stocked it up, kept her there, not let anyone else see her until she accepted—
But then I would have never met Carly. Granted, my heart wouldn’t have been a festering wound, so maybe I wouldn’t have needed Carly…
I’d have this right now. No matter how hard Mia might have resisted, no matter how much she wanted to come back to Mateo, I could have controlled her once she had this baby. Just in the past ten minutes, I’ve already seen that Mateo’s firm hold on her isn’t quite as firm where the baby is concerned. My ass on this bed with the baby in my arms proves that.
Mia may worship at the altar of Mateo, but she loves my baby more than him.
If I could’ve kept her long enough for her to have the baby…
Dom smacks me right in the face. I cock my head at him and he grins, shoving the fist he just whacked me with into his mouth. I have to smile back. I guess I did sort of need a smack.
“You’ve got a pretty decent left hook for a three-month-old,” I tell him.
Mia grins. “Everything he does is adorable.”
I feel Mateo move around the bed, but I’m still somehow unprepared for him to stop in front of me and take Dom right out of my hands. “That’s enough,” he tells me, turning Dom and resting him against his own chest.
Dom looks up at him and squeals, happy to see him. He grabs Mateo’s face and stares up at him with a big smile, like he absolutely fucking adores him.
It’s a knife to the fucking heart.
Mateo rewards him with a faint smile that he eats right up. “You earned your giraffe. I wanted to do that, too, but they think it’s cute when you do it.”
Dom squeals again, then plants an open mouthed kiss on Mateo’s chin.
I can’t breathe.
Adrenaline surges through me, but I feel weak. The quicksand has reached my mouth. I’m never getting out if I sit here for one more minute. I stand abruptly, stealing a last painful look at Dom in Mateo’s arms. I want to thank Mia for letting me see him, but I don’t trust myself to speak, so I flee the room without another word.