Mateo
There are a lot of things I excel at in life, roles I’ve studied and learned so well, you’d think I was born to play them. Ousting my asshole father and taking over his role in the family? Piece of cake. More than doubling my family’s income through a variety of legitimate and not-so-legitimate ventures? I can literally do it in my sleep. Playing with human lives and manipulating them into doing whatever I want them to do, like they’re literal puppets with carefully attached string? No problem. Keeping my inconveniently loving wife safe and happy, despite the many obstacles she’s thrown in my path along the way? Sure, I can do that.
Raising a pre-teen girl, however, is not a job I was cut out to do. Ordinarily I let my wife do all the heavy-lifting here with Adrian stepping in to pick up any slack I don’t have time to deal with. They say it takes a village, right? Well, I have a carefully chosen village around to take care of all that for me.
But tonight a 12-year-old girl managed to sneak past all my security and out of my house. Now she’s god-knows-where, doing god-knows-what, with god-knows-who. Historically I wouldn’t worry so much about the details—she’s 12, after all—but Bella is my neediest child. I assume it’s because she was my first, and when I had her, I hadn’t a single clue how to raise a child. I assumed her mother would take care of that, but I picked out a shitty mother for her. Even before she died, she didn’t show any signs of being very good at that particular role.
For the first several years of Bella’s life, she didn’t fare much better than I did, I guess. I didn’t think about it at the time. I did the best I knew how. I hired a capable woman to be her nanny and take care of her, to do all the shit I didn’t know how to do and didn’t possess the time—or, if I’m being honest, the interest—in learning.
Bella was five by the time the family grew and the entire running of my household changed. Now she has a mother and a father, but those first five years left their mark. Despite being my eldest child, Bella is perhaps the least secure. The years of not making time for her didn’t just disappear because she gets more attention now.
I shouldn’t be surprised I managed to fuck up my kid. That’s what parents do, even when they try—and for a long while, I guess I didn’t know what trying meant.
Long story short, I really hope my 12-year-old isn’t out getting pregnant right now because I was a shitty dad for a few years. I’ll have to kill the little bastard, and if she is where Adrian thinks she is right now, that would be pretty bad.
The son of fucking cops. Well, the nephew of a cop, but I looked into it, and blue practically runs in this kid’s veins. His uncle is Chicago PD, his grandfather is a retired chief of police, and he has an aunt who’s trying to make detective.
All of them are the annoying kind—the ones who can’t be bought. The noble assholes who would prefer to struggle and uphold their principles than take some extra cash and live an easier life just for looking the other way.
This little asshole is the last person in this entire city I want her to like, so of course this is the one she’s been nurturing a crush on for years. I swear, she only likes this kid to spite me. I thought I had some time before I really had to worry about the little shithead, but right now I’m not so sure.
She’s 12.
Even I wasn’t fucking anyone when I was 12.
I’m going to put her little ass in a goddamn tower, mark my fucking words.
Adrian pulls into the driveway, looking every bit as unhappy as I am. It’s not even his daughter potentially inside this house, but it may as well be. As he storms up the porch steps, he oozes more paternal outrage than me, and she is mine.
“No fucking solicitors,” Adrian mutters, reading the little gold-plated sign on their front door as he presses the doorbell. “I’ll show them fucking solicitors.”
I give him a light pat on the shoulder. “Down, boy. Let’s see if she’s even here first.”
“She better fucking be here,” he blusters. “And she’s grounded for a month if she is,” he adds, in case I didn’t know.
“Justine’s birthday party is this weekend,” I remind him. I’m not even sure why I remember when Ethan’s daughter’s birthday is, but I remember Mia saying they were going out to pick up a present for her.
“She’s not going to any parties,” Adrian states. “She’s grounded. Grounded means no parties.”
This is not my arena, so I shrug and watch a fuzzy shape approach the door through the frosted window.
“And no phone, either,” Adrian adds, stacking up her punishment. “If she can’t be bothered to have the thing on her when she sneaks out of the goddamn house, she doesn’t get to have it.”
I take a step to the side as the door opens. A big, burly man appears in the doorway and narrows his eyes at me. I can tell by the instant distaste on his face that he obviously knows who I am, and by his lack of surprise that he must know why I’m here.
Like he doesn’t, he says, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I do believe my wife told yours that you aren’t welcome on our doorstep.”
His wife better not have said that to my fucking wife. If she did, Mia certainly didn’t tell me about it. “Is my daughter—who is very clearly a minor—in your house right now?” I ask.
The man responds with a deeply stubborn chin-lift. “So what if she is? Little girl needs some positive influences in her life.”
“Get the fuck out of the way,” Adrian says, apparently beyond civility.
“You step one foot inside my house, I’ll call the police. The only member of your family welcome over that threshold is that little girl, and only because I’m not going to fault her for who her father is.”
I roll my eyes. “How noble of you. Go get my daughter or I’ll call the police myself and have you charged with attempted kidnapping.”
Barking with laughter, he says, “That’s rich, isn’t it?”
“I’m a shameless bastard; trust me, I’ll do it,” I tell him.
“Why don’t you have her mother call and tell me to send her home?” he asks, before theatrically smacking his palm against his forehead. “Oh, wait; you murdered her mother, didn’t you?”
Offering him an icy smile, I draw my phone out of my jacket pocket and unlock it.
“He’s not bluffing,” Adrian informs the bastard. “He will legitimately have the cops show up on your doorstep. We’ll all have to fill out paperwork and waste taxpayer dollars. It’ll be a real hassle—and that’s just tonight. I can’t begin to imagine the kind of bad luck that might start to befall you after we leave here tonight.”
Narrowing his eyes at Adrian, he says, “You threatening me?”
“Of course not,” Adrian says, smoothly. “Just observing that sometimes when people become a problem for us, things start to go wrong for them. Damndest thing.”
I know he’s pissed off, but I really don’t want Adrian threatening the family members of starchy police officers with violence, so I open up the keypad of my phone and press in a 9. “This is going to be a funny story. We’re all going to look back and laugh about the time Mateo Morelli showed up on your doorstep and called the cops on you.”
“Police officers,” he says, rather icily. “Not cops.”
“I could give a fuck less,” I state, losing my smile.
He holds my stare for another moment, but then he slams the door shut and his shape disappears back the way it came.
“I hate these fucking people,” Adrian mutters.
“Yes, they’re not my favorite, either.”
“We should transfer Bella to a different school, get her away from this little asshole once and for all.”
I roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of such a suggestion. “I’m not going to run from them. If the asshole father keeps pissing me off, I’m going to buy the company he works for and have him fired. Maybe they’ll move.”
“I’d rather break his fucking face,” Adrian states.
“If I fuck with this family, I’d prefer to use legal measures. They’re rigid, law-abiding citizens; don’t want to give them anything to use against me.” I look at Adrian as a new idea occurs to me. “We should look into the wife. Maybe hire someone to seduce her. See how smug the asshole is when his wife’s running around on him.”
Adrian shakes his head. “You’re so mean.”
My eyebrows rise. “You just wanted to break his face three seconds ago.”
“Yeah, but you want to break his heart and ruin his life.”
“Damn right; the impression will last longer. I’m gonna look into buying that company. Even if I don’t play that card now, could be a nice one to have up my sleeve later.”
“We have very different ways of solving problems,” Adrian states.
“Mine’s pretty effective,” I point out.
Raising his scarred knuckles to show me, he says, “So is mine.”
The door opens again, and this time my daughter is on the other side. The brawny asshole has a giant hand resting on her shoulder like he’s going to protect her, but of course he has no choice but to surrender her to me, since I’m her fucking father.
I’m pretty sure it’s just to be an asshole that he tells her, “You’re welcome here anytime, Bella.”
“Not without permission, you’re not,” Adrian states, reaching forward and grabbing her shoulder, ushering her out of the house and onto the porch with us.
Bella looks up at me, her cheeks flushed with anger or embarrassment—I’m not sure which.
“Go to the car,” I tell her.
Bella shakes her head at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, before storming down the porch steps. Adrian follows after her, but I remain on the porch with Tommy’s father.
Once I hear the car door shut behind me, I speak. “Let me make myself very clear. I don’t care what you think about me. That doesn’t matter.” Pointing back at the car, I state, “That is my daughter. My little girl. And if anyone in your family ever helps her sneak out of my house again, you and I are going to have a problem. If your son lays a finger on my daughter, we’re going to have a problem. Basically, drawing my daughter any further into your family than you already have is a very ill-advised idea that I would strongly urge you to reconsider. I’m hoping this is a little blip of a crush that Bella outgrows before long, but if you have it in your head that you’re going to ‘rescue’ her and turn her on me, know that I will put a stop to it.”
“Sounds like you’re threatening me, Mr. Morelli.”
God, I hate the sound of his smug voice. “I am,” I state. “If you or any member of your family crosses me, I will rip your life apart—and I won’t break a single law to do it.”
His withering glare is heavy with hatred, but I’m done here. I’ve said my piece. I turn my back to him, make my way down the steps, and return to my Escalade. Adrian glares at the man as he holds the door open for me, then slams it shut once I’m inside, undoubtedly continuing to glare at him as he walks around to the driver’s seat.
I look over at my daughter, sitting in the seat beside me with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her face turned toward the window instead of looking at me.
“What were you thinking?” I demand.
She shakes her head again, too overcome with emotion to form any words.
“You can’t sneak out like that, Bella. We’ve never stopped you from coming over to Tommy’s house. Why didn’t you just ask?”
“Because you always make me take someone,” she bursts out, turning to vent her feelings at me. “You don’t let me go alone. I don’t want Uncle Alec or some goon sitting outside waiting for me. It’s like I’m a prisoner! I wanted to have dinner with Tommy’s family because they’re nice. Because they’re good. They’re everything you’re not!”
Wow.
Her breath hitches and she angrily swipes tears from her cheek. “I just wanted to spend tonight with people who care about me.”
That is an insane, stupid thing to say. Telling her that probably won’t help. “Your family cares about you,” I state. “You aren’t some unloved little waif, Bella. Come on.”
“You just don’t get it,” she says, shaking her head.
“You’re right, I don’t. So explain it to me.”
“No,” she snaps, turning back to the window. “You humiliated me! Why would you show up on his doorstep like that? You know how Tommy’s family feels about you. And do you know how stupid that made me look?”
I can only stare at her. “You snuck out of the house without so much as a cell phone, Bella. I didn’t know where you were. You could have been hurt.”
“Like you care,” she mutters.
Closing my eyes, I massage my temples. I’m just about parented out right now. Twelve-year-old girls are too irrational for me to deal with.
I draw my phone back out of my pocket to message Mia. I need to fill her in and warn her that I’m bringing home a hot mess of emotion. This is Mia’s wheelhouse. She’s the one who deals with the meltdowns. I need a fucking drink.
Bella sniffles and pouts the whole way back. Adrian talked a big game on the way over about the piece of his mind he was going to deliver, but as soon as she dissolved into tears, he went quiet. Fucking softie.
I am quite happy to deliver my daughter into the capable hands of my wife as soon as we get home. Since I texted ahead to let her know what she would be dealing with, she is waiting in the foyer to receive Bella as soon as she storms inside.
Grown-ass men I can control, but for a 12-year-old girl, I need my wife.
She needs to be yelled at, but instead Mia opens her arms, bringing Bella in for a hug. She squeezes her and tells her how worried we all were. I want to tell her how grounded she is, but Mia doesn’t seek my input right now. With her arm around Bella, she ushers her down the hall, head bent like they’re already talking.
Sighing heavily, I look over at Adrian. “Well, that was fun.”
“I need a drink,” he tells me.
I can’t help smirking. “You read my mind.”
I lead the way to my study and pour us each some Scotch—the old, expensive stuff. Tonight calls for it. Adrian accepts his glass and sinks into a wing chair. Since it’s just the two of us, I take a seat in the one across from him.
“I’m glad this last one was a girl,” I tell Adrian, before taking a sip.
His eyebrows rise with surprise. “Why? Because you’re dying to do this again?”
“Because now we can stop,” I correct. “Mia wanted a daughter so badly. If it had been another boy, I would’ve wanted to die. I would’ve had to keep going until she got a girl.”
Rolling his eyes, he says, “Oh no, you would have had to impregnate your beautiful wife again? It’s a hard life for you, isn’t it?”
I take a sip, nodding even though he’s not serious. “You should feel bad for me.”
“I feel bad for all of us,” he states. “This is just the start. Bella’s the easiest kid you have and she’s already giving me gray hair.”
“You do not have gray hair.”
“I will, at this rate,” he states.
I shake my head. “Don’t worry so much. Bella’s a good kid. Mia will straighten her out tonight. She’s good at this kind of thing.”
“That fucking family pisses me off. Watch her grow up and marry that little asshole.”
“Over my dead body,” I state. “Anyone who causes me this much annoyance is temporary, I promise you that.”
“It’s been, what, three years? That’s a long time to nurse a dead-end crush.”
“She’s just a kid,” I tell him.
“She won’t be for too much longer,” he warns me, seriously. “She’s growing up, Mateo. Her needs are changing. You’re her father; you have to rise to meet them. You heard her in the car. She needs more effort from you.”
“She was just throwing a tantrum.”
“No, she was telling you how she feels,” he disagrees. “It’s not enough to let everyone else deal with her. You’ve gotta do some fathering there and fix it yourself so she doesn’t feel that way anymore. She’ll be wide open for some little asshole to take advantage if she’s got a void like that. Mia can do her best, but you’re the one who needs to step it up.”
I sigh, sinking back into the chair. “Tonight was supposed to be nice. I was supposed to be relaxing with my wife, thinking about the Tuscan sun and Mia in a bikini. Why can’t Roman be an adult already? I need a break.”
“The Tuscan sun?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow at me.
I nod, taking a sip of my drink. “I bought a house in Tuscany. A big villa right on the sea. I was going to give it to Mia for Valentine’s Day.”
His brown eyes widen. “You’re giving her a fucking house for Valentine’s Day? Jesus Christ, I just bought Elise a couple tickets to a play and some earrings.”
Smiling faintly, I remark, “Might want to add some flowers, at least.”
“Sure, that’s basically the same thing as a house in Italy.”
“It’s a big house, you can come stay with us,” I offer. “Mia said you want to retire to a beach house, too.”
“I’ve spent enough of my life living under your roof; I should probably have my own by the time we retire.”
“Nah, stay with us. More fun that way.”
“Yes, you’re so much fun,” he says dryly.
“We’re going to fly out for a week or so next month to check it out,” I tell him. “Mia’s birthday trip this year. You and Elise should join us.”
“No offense, but I’d rather vacation with Ethan than you. I get enough of you on a day-to-day basis.”
I shrug. “We can invite them, too. Hell, we can even invite Sal and Francesca. Make it a whole family affair—why not? It’s a big house; there’s plenty of room for all of us.”
“Yeah?” he asks, a bit skeptically. Nodding slowly as he goes through it in his head, he says, “Maybe we could do that. Then I could at least tell Elise she gets a week in Italy. That’s a pretty good gift.”
“Sure, dress it up. Package it all together—a couple sundresses, a new pair of sandals. Put a little note inside saying you can’t wait to see her wear them in Tuscany. Boom, you won Valentine’s Day.”
“Damn, that’s a good idea. You’re so good at gift-giving.”
“I have a lot of practice,” I point out.
After we shoot the shit for a little while, there’s a light knock on the study door. I look up and see my lovely wife stepping inside, her arm around Bella’s shoulder. Gone is the emotional mess I handed off to her. Now Bella is bright-eyed and smiling. Mia has worked her magic.
Feeling a lot lighter, I sit forward. “There are my girls.”
Bella beams a little brighter. Mia’s eyes warm with approval. “We’re all better now,” Mia says.
“Am I still grounded?” Bella asks.
“Yes,” Adrian answers.
Bella shoots him a dirty look, but Mia ushers her over toward me. Releasing Bella, Mia takes a seat on my lap. I put my drink on the side table and wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her close and giving her a lingering kiss.
“I believe you and I have a bedroom to get back to,” I tell her.
“About that,” Mia says, rubbing my shoulder and leaning in to drop another kiss on my lips. She’s trying to butter me up. She’s about to say something she doesn’t expect me to like. “How about instead of a quiet night in, just the two of us… we go out?”
I lift an eyebrow. “You want to go out now?”
“Not for dinner. But maybe we could stop somewhere for ice cream. Bella wants to go to the movies.”
“Isn’t she grounded?” I ask, hiking up an eyebrow.
“Starting tomorrow, yes,” Mia says, glancing at Adrian as if to reassure him she didn’t undermine his punishment. Looking back at me, she continues, “But tonight… ice cream and movie date, just the three of us. What do you think?”
I think I would like to haul my wife back upstairs and resume the relaxing evening we agreed upon before Bella’s shenanigans robbed me of peace, that’s what I think. I think we shouldn’t reward bad behavior, and we should send her little ass up to her room—I don’t know why Mia thinks ice cream and a movie is an appropriate response to Bella sneaking out of the house, going over to that little punk’s house, and ruining everyone’s night.
Of course, if Mia never rewarded bad behavior, she wouldn’t have married me. When she senses someone needs her, she tends to overlook their unloving behaviors and fill their void, whether they ask her to or not. I should probably defer to her judgment on this particular issue.
Looking from Mia’s hopeful face to my daughter’s even more hopeful face, I know my peaceful night is canceled regardless. If I send Bella to her room, Mia will feel bad all night. Adrian was just saying I needed to step it up and do more shit like this anyway, and he probably has a point.
It wasn’t the plan, but I guess I might as well embrace it.
Looping my free arm around Bella’s waist, I tug her against my side and kiss her on the forehead. “Sounds like a perfect Valentine’s Day to me.”
The End