“Eh, what happens in Chicago stays in Chicago,” Rafe tosses back.
The men start to go to their wing chairs. I don’t move to follow. Instead, I point back toward the door. “Should I go help—?”
Mateo cuts me off with a sharp, “No.”
I shift my weight, glancing down, then back up. “Okay. So…”
With the closest thing to a bitter smile I’ve ever seen stretch across Mateo’s handsome face, he sweeps his hand toward the beverage cart. “You might as well go out the way you came in. You can be my maid one last time.”
“Sure you don’t need someone full-time?” I offer. “I have experience.”
“Pay’s shit,” he responds.
“Hey, I’ll work for room and board. Maria seems to dig it.”
“As much as I would enjoy making you clean my wife’s house, I don’t trust you. Can’t have untrustworthy maids running around.”
I faintly shake my head, sighing. That he’s trying to hurt me stings. His words themselves don’t. I’m not jealous that he married Mia. I hate that he wants to lash out, though. He’s done everything in his considerable power each time he’s seen me to make me feel as small as possible, and I’ve only ever seen him do that to Vince. I don’t even think he hit it this hard with Vince, and he regularly eye-fucked his girlfriend in front of him, so he did not take it easy on that kid.
I fix his drink and serve him first. His gaze lingers on mine as he takes the glass. “Good thing you don’t have poison this time, huh?” he murmurs.
“Who says I don’t?” I ask lightly, winking at him and heading back to the serving cart.
I pass out drinks to the rest of the guys, but I’m lightly amused to realize Mateo never touches his. It’s obviously very unlikely I could get my hands on poison, and less likely I would tell him if I did, but his paranoia won’t allow him to pour the liquid down his throat and take the chance.
When drinks are finished, we adjourn to the dining room. Now I’m allowed to go in the kitchen to help the ladies serve.
Mia looks up as soon as I step foot inside. She looks stricken, like just the sight of me hurts her. Maybe she knows this is the last dinner.
I wonder how stricken she would look if she knew it was his.
That thought sours my stomach more than it should, so I break Mia’s gaze and grab salads for myself, Rafe, and Alec. Mia, Colette, and Elise follow behind with the rest of them.
“No Sal and Francesca tonight, huh?” I ask, smoothing my skirt down as I take a seat. “I figured they’d want to see me off.”
Mateo smiles faintly. “They had better things to do, apparently.”
“Can we not…?” Mia trails off, shaking her head.
“Don’t want to talk about it?” I ask. “Sure. Let’s talk about something else. See any good movies lately?”
Mia sighs, covering her face with her hands and taking a minute to regroup.
A couple seats down from me, Dante breaks the awkward silence. “The death of a traitor shouldn’t bother you this much. Suck it up.”
“No one asked you,” Mateo informs his brother, an edge of warning in the gaze he sends his way.
I can’t help grimacing at Dante myself. My insider information makes my reaction authentic, but what the fuck, Dante?
“Sorry, tin man,” Mia snaps. “Some of us aren’t so casual about losing family members.”
He shakes his head, reaching for his wine glass. “There’s something seriously wrong with you.”
She rolls her eyes. “Says the sociopath who is all, ‘oh, it’s just a little murder, what are you getting so worked up about?’”
“It’s not murder,” he says, distinctly. “It’s execution.”
Mateo speaks firmly enough to silence them both. “Drop it.”
Given it’s so quiet, we all hear Elise murmur to Adrian, “This is why I said we should play the morning sickness card and skip tonight.”
Adrian smiles faintly and spears a bite of salad.
Dinner is a solemn affair after that. A few attempts at conversation are made, but they all die a painful, lingering death. Mia tries to talk to me and can’t. Apparently she’s the only one at the table who cares about my impending death.
Well, my fake impending death.
I’m quiet, too. I can’t stop thinking about what tonight will bring. This isn’t how I would spend my last meal, if it would actually be my last meal, but as half the table sits here thinking I’m the dead woman walking, I know otherwise. Elise’s morning sickness comment sticks in my head. I didn’t know she was pregnant again. I never even thought about what would happen to Elise. I still don’t really care, if I’m being honest; Elise doesn’t like me anyway. Still, with Adrian and Mateo taken down tonight, they leave behind two pregnant wives. I can’t imagine Rafe and Dante will want to keep Elise around. Will they keep Westley? Rafe never mentioned him when he said he would essentially deal with Mia’s baby.