I guess it doesn’t matter now; he won’t get to. Rafe is going to save me.
My stomach hurts. I should feel better about this. I should be more relieved, but all I feel is dread and terror. I don’t know how this happens. I don’t even know if they can pull it off. I never figured out who A was, but I don’t think it’s Adrian. I would feel so much better about all this if it was Adrian. Unfortunately, I don’t think he would so much as toss a life raft to my drowning ass, at this point. Besides, if he wanted to save Mia, he wouldn’t have to do all this. Surely he’s been banking all the money Mateo’s been paying him all these years. As the most effective member of Mateo’s entire operation, he’s also probably the most adept at disappearing. If he really wanted to, he could take Mia, Elise, and the kids and just disappear.
Mateo would obviously hunt him for the rest of his life, but I’m much less confident in who would come out on top if Adrian and Mateo were the ones going up against one another. I have no idea how adept Dante is at planning shit. I’ve never seen Rafe operate. These men aren’t familiar to me, and that’s scary.
I guess at least if they fail, I’m only dying a few hours sooner than I would anyway—and hey, I’ll be in good company. Rafe, Dante, and me, all wiped out in one fell swoop. Mia wouldn’t even be mad at Mateo, at that point.
Ugh.
So much unpleasantness.
This time tomorrow night, either I’ll be taking a long dirt nap, or a mourning Mia will take up residence in Rafe’s bed as his new pet.
I hate everything about all of this.
It’s pretty bad that my post-mob life—serving eggs sunny side up and pouring coffees for $2 tips as a single mom—is starting to look damn good. I hope nothing exciting ever happens to me again. I can be known as the most boring lady in my neighborhood, and no one need ever know about my colorful former life as a mob wife.
One more horrible day. That’s it. I can survive one more horrible day.
I have myself pretty adequately distracted until Rafe escorts me to the study. I should be going to the kitchen to help the ladies, but Rafe pushes the door open, putting a hand at the small of my back, and ushers me inside.
My stomach twists at the familiar sight of Mateo perched at the edge of his desk. Anxiety gathers in my chest until my insides feel so thick, I can scarcely draw a breath. It’s almost overwhelming, this foreign desire to revisit history. To drop to my knees in front of him the way I did the night we first met and beg once more for his mercy.
Saving my own ass shouldn’t hurt this much.
I can’t believe I got us into this fucking predicament.
Stupid Meg. Stupid.
Mateo’s gaze slides in our direction as we enter. My heart sinks when he meets my gaze. The desire to fold intensifies. Maybe if I pull him aside and tell him now, he’ll forgive me. I did a stupid, horrible, shitty thing, but I want to go back. I want to undo it. I can’t, but I could warn him now. It’s not the first time I’ve wanted to.
“About time.”
The deep voice of Dante Morelli distracts me from my thoughts of double-crossing. My gaze jumps to him now as he shakes Rafe’s hand. My whole body heats up. Should they even be talking in front of Mateo? Even a casual hello? Mateo always keeps a careful eye on Dante.
Alec walks over, smiling faintly, his gaze moving from me to Rafe. “You brought a date. Good call bringing one he’s already fucked. No chance he tries to steal her.”
I cut Alec a look of annoyance, but he doesn’t respond in kind. He nods at me very slightly, still with a faint smile and a gleam in his eyes.
In that moment, I know he’s A. He’s telling me. Here we are, all four of us, assembled right under Mateo’s nose. If Dante and Alec are both in on the plan, the only people who need to be removed are Mateo and Adrian. Rafe will step up as Dante’s second, Alec will keep the spot he has now.
They’re going to pull this off.
We’re going to pull this off.
Rafe rolls his eyes, since he’s the only one facing Adrian and Mateo. “Not my choice of dinner date, trust me. Someone had to watch the rat; I drew the short straw.”
Alec shakes his head and drifts back toward a wing chair. “You’re gonna have to start making my brother pay you. All this charity work is bound to hurt your street cred.”