Chapter Thirty Two
Vince
Carly stands in front of me, sliding her hand up my tie and giving me a sultry little smile. “God, you look good in a suit.”
“Seems like I can afford to buy a lot of them now,” I mutter.
The reading of my father’s will was this morning. I knew I would inherit a lot, but I ended up with even more than I expected. If I just burned the Vegas house to the ground instead of selling it, I’d still be set for the rest of my life.
“Well, you should,” she advises me, running her hand down my chest, letting her warm gaze follow. “If we had time, I’d take all this sexy clothing right back off you.”
I smirk faintly. “Maybe later.”
“If I’m lucky, huh?” she teases, leaning close to give me a kiss.
I wrap my arms around her waist and look down at her when she goes to pull back. “I’m the lucky one. Thank you for this week. I have not been my best self here.”
She lightly shrugs, dismissing the real threat we had to navigate this week. “Nah, you did all right. It could have been much worse.”
“Could have been better,” I admit.
“You have the rest of our lives to do better,” she informs me, wrapping her arms around my neck. “I didn’t expect you to bring your A-game under these circumstances. I knew these people brought out the worst in you. If this is the worst of it, I can handle that.”
Thankfully she doesn’t know about the fleeting thoughts of kidnapping that passed through my brain last night, so I damn sure don’t enlighten her. Instead I smile at her and lean in to give her another kiss.
Carly finally pulls back, wrapping her arm around me. “Now, let’s go get this over with.”
---
My father’s funeral is about as full of love as his life was.
Since he was important, the graveyard is flooded with people, but no one is sad. He may have touched all our lives, but the nature of his influence is easily expressed by how little any of us seem to care that he’s gone.
It’s easy for the women to forget who we are when we’re safely tucked away inside Mateo’s house. It may not be safe for me—especially in an emotional sense—but it’s easy to forget that he’s careful for a reason. That house is a fortress, populated with people who protect him and carefully monitored. It’s the only place men with as much power as Mateo has can relax a little and let down their guards—at least as much as men like that can ever put down their guards.
It’s not a surprise that this grave yard is crawling with soldiers, armed to the teeth, casting untrusting looks in every direction.
It is a surprise that most of the men are Rafe’s.
After spending the weekend relaxing at my old house, enjoying Mateo’s hospitality, and fucking my sister-in-law, now he stands alone in front of my father’s grave, surrounded by men who would die to protect him. He meets my gaze across the coffin and offers a grim smile.
His message is clear: Vegas belongs to him now. If I have a problem with it, there are more than a dozen well-armed men at this location alone who will happily gun me down.
Mateo has his own men here, but they’re damn sure not going to protect me. I have no army, no dangerous friends, not a single intimidating man to follow me. I don’t want any of that, but given it was my father’s and the archaic way my family organizes, I’m the one all that power should rightfully pass to.
Laurel stands by her sister, holding her coat snugly against her body. Carly wraps a protective arm around her shoulders, her other arm looped through mine.
“See, this is why I don’t have one night stands,” Laurel states. “You might get good sex out of it, but it might turn out the guy who delivers the orgasms heads a criminal organization and forgot to tell you.”
“And he might kinda sorta be considering murdering your sister’s boyfriend for threatening his claim to power by simply breathing,” Carly adds.
Laurel nods grimly. “The statistical significance was plastered all over the wall. I should have known this might happen if I had a one night stand with a guy I met at a mob family’s Easter dinner.”
“I tried to stop you,” Carly states. “You didn’t want to listen.”
Laurel shakes her head. “It’s my fault. I was blinded by all the sexiness. It turns my brain off. I transform into a puff of cotton candy with the IQ to match. You know this about me.”
“I do,” Carly agrees, nodding. “That’s why I tried.”
“It was a valiant effort,” Laurel acknowledges.
“For the record,” I tell them, glancing at Laurel, “if he tries to kill me now, you have my blessing to seduce him if you think it might help change his mind.”
Laurel shakes her head. “He didn’t even invite me to stand over there with all his thugs. I don’t think I can be of much help.”
“Oh, shit, I think he knows we’re talking about him,” Carly murmurs, averting her gaze.
I look over to see why, and now he’s moving in our direction.
Instinctively, I shove Carly and Laurel behind me and take a step forward. He meets me over on this side of the casket, shoving his hands in the pocket of his long coat and glancing past me. “Ladies.” His gaze meets mine. “Vince.”
Tension sizzles in the air between us as we stand here in front of my father’s casket, surrounded by family and soldiers. There are so many reasons I don’t like the man standing before me. I think of Vegas, of the way he took control of Mia just to piss me off. I think of the night he took her from me at my father’s house and hauled her back to his. I think of how fucking well he and Mateo seem to get along now, and Carly’s theories that he’s been with Mia.
He dislikes me, too, but we probably don’t have a single overlapping reason.
I don’t get men like him. Men like Mateo. I don’t understand them and I don’t want to.
Finally, Rafe speaks. “Heading to Vegas this evening?”
“Yep,” I answer, evenly. “Just tying up some loose ends so we can go back home.”
He nods. “Not planning to stick around for a little while?”
“Definitely not. If I never stepped foot in Vegas again for the rest of my life, I’d be just fine with that.”
Now he nods again, but with more approval. “That’s good to hear.”
I get the feeling I’m dismissed as he steps around me and heads for Laurel.
He stops and looks down at her with mild amusement. “What’s wrong, Laurel? You don’t look happy to see me this afternoon.”
Her brain is clearly more capable of rallying in the face of his reality. Instead of turning quite as quickly into a puddle of goo, she tilts her chin up defiantly. “Why should seeing you give me any feelings? We had sex a few times, that’s all.”
There’s amusement in his voice as he murmurs, “Mm hmm.” He reaches for the neck of her black sweater, tugging it down so he can look at the marks he left on her pale skin. “Why don’t you come with them to Vegas? We can have one more night together.” He turns to glance back at me, then to Carly, then back to Laurel. “You can all stay with me while you’re in town. I have plenty of room.”
“I don’t know,” Laurel murmurs, looking to Carly.
Rafe releases the neck of her sweater and takes her chin in his hand, turning her gaze back to him. “Should I word that differently, kitten? The answer I’m looking for is yes.”
Laurel’s brain struggles to hold its ground, but I can see her sinking. “I guess I don’t have class until Wednesday...”
Carly heaves a sigh, rolling her eyes.
Rafe looks over at her and smiles. “It’s settled, then. Vince knows where I live. As soon as you land, come on over. I’ll take you all out to dinner.” He presses a deceptively chaste kiss to Laurel’s forehead as he murmurs, “Then dessert.”
Fuck this asshole.
Laurel’s brain has given up the good fight. She looks up at him with a semi-adoring smile and he rewards her with a brief kiss on the lips.
Once he and his men leave us and head for Mateo, Carly brings a hand up and theatrically knocks on Laurel’s head. “Hello? Anyone in there?”
Laurel swats her hand away. “Hey, it’s still technically Easter break. I’m having an Easter fling. This still counts.”
“When you were having an Easter fling, you thought you were banging some dangerous gangster’s muscle, not the guy calling the shots.”
Laurel points an accusing finger my way. “Vince said I could. He basically asked me to do it. You heard him.”
“I said if it seemed like he might kill me,” I specify.
Laurel nods confidently. “And I picked up distinctly murderous vibes when he was over here.” Laurel presses a hand dramatically to her heart, her face solemn. “It’s a sacrifice that someone had to make for your physical well-being, and I am graciously submitting myself as the sacrificial lamb. You’re welcome.”
I shake my head at her, but Carly’s disapproving sigh carries more weight than anything I could say.
“He calls you kitten?” Carly mutters.
“It’s sexier when we aren’t wearing clothes and his voice is all gravelly, but to be honest, I like it regardless.” Then she adds brightly, “Besides, I’ve never been to Vegas.”
---
More forced socialization follows the funeral itself. Mateo holds the wake at his house. If any of the Vegas Morellis or the men associated suspect Mateo of killing my dad in retaliation, they all know better than to say a word. Rafe and Mateo remain chummy, but it starts to make a little more sense to me now. After my father helped me kidnap and hide Mia, I should have known he would top Mateo’s hit list. Mateo didn’t have a foot to stand on in Vegas, but he has a lot of man power—and a lot of power, in general. Rafe has all the Vegas in influence that Mateo didn’t have, but he couldn’t kill or displace my father and keep the allegiance of all his men.
I provided them a bridge. Mia brought them back into the same orbit. Now that they’re not as young and ornery, they don’t hate one another over some girl neither of them ever really cared about. Now they can put that aside, apparently, and work together to help each other out.
Mateo called Mia his best diplomat. Now as she holds onto Mateo’s arm and smiles pleasantly at whatever Rafe is saying, I see it. Mateo wages war, Mia tries to keep the peace, and when it benefits him to do so, he can unleash her on his opponent and lets her wreak her special brand of havoc.
I guess men like Mateo know how to contain her in a way I never did.
She only wreaks havoc on me.
He told me once I couldn’t handle Mia and that seemed absurd. Mia doesn’t strike you as the kind of woman who’s hard to handle. She’s not demanding or aggressive; she won’t hand your ass to you if you fuck with her. She’s loving and kind, soft and forgiving. You show her your ugliness; she accepts it and loves you anyway, all while managing to stay true to herself. The hardest thing about Mia is accepting that she’s not some sacrificial lamb. She’s somehow happy living in the dark with the monsters, even though she’s all light.
Love as pure as Mia’s is a rarity in the world of power and corruption I was born into. As with most rare things, powerful men will shed blood and wage wars to possess it. To possess her.
As if to reinforce my thought, Mateo’s former powerful enemy Rafe grabs Mia’s shoulder and pulls her in so he can place another affectionate kiss on top of her head. She wraps her arms around his torso and gives him a warm hug. Next, Mateo nods at him and they shake hands.
He must be leaving.
“You’re staring, babe.”
I turn my head to look at Carly. She’s smiling pleasantly, unbothered by the tie I can’t seem to cut to my old life. To the woman who will raise my son without me.
I know it’s shitty, I just can’t help it.
I take Carly’s hand and twine our fingers together. “I’m sorry.”
“No biggie,” she tells me, leaning her head against my arm. “We’re almost out. Everything will go back to normal once we leave the bubble of toxicity.”
I smile faintly, pulling her in front of me so I can tug her hips against mine. “You’re wonderful.”
She nods like she agrees. “You owe me so many milkshakes, it’s not even funny.”
“How about a house?” I counter.
Her eyes light up. “Really?”
I nod my head, reaching a hand up and tucking a chunk of blonde hair behind her ears. “Why not? Better than an apartment. I can even set up some security on the place to make myself feel better.”
Carly grins at me. “Are you jealous of your cousin’s creeper cave? You just have to have one of your own?”
“I don’t want a creeper cave,” I assure her. “I can make sure you have your craft room, though.”
“I can make so many holiday wreaths.”
I nod my head. “And a room for Laurel, when she wants to visit. A guest room for Cherie.”
“For next Easter. Maybe even this Christmas. Oh! What kind of mug should we get Cherie?”
I smirk. “I’ll let you and Laurel figure it out.”
“I’m gonna get Laurel a mug that says, ‘I kissed a Morelli and I liked it.’”
“You can get matching mugs, then. You like kissing your Morelli, too.”
She smiles fondly, grabbing my tie and pulling me in for a kiss. “I sure do.”