There’s a domino effect here. A lot of lives are going to be fucked up just so power can change hands.
It’s not like that power is transferring into better hands, either. I shudder to think of a Chicago under Dante’s rule. I know it won’t be my problem; I’m going to hightail it as far away from this city as feasibly possible. Still, I hate thinking of him in this house. I hate imagining him looming in the doorway of the bedroom I shared with Mateo and claiming it as his. I hate imagining Colette taking over Mia’s closet.
I hate picturing Mia, period, because she’s miserable. I saw years ago what life was like for her with Mateo, the other half of her heart, after she thought he killed Vince. Life with Rafe after he kills Mateo? It’s going to make what we all went through before look like paradise.
Long story short, I do not enjoy my last meal. To make matters worse, the main course is salmon. I’m positive it’s purely out of spite because Mateo knows I hate it.
By the time dinner is over and it’s time for Dante to leave, I’m a ball of tension. I have no idea how any of this is executed. They only said tonight. What if they mean now? Rafe, Dante, and Alec are all right here. They have the element of surprise.
A sweat breaks out as Rafe and Dante exchange glances—too telling to be nothing. Fear coils in my gut.
Before I can work myself up to a full panic, Dante nods at Mateo, puts a hand at the small of Colette’s back, and walks out the front door. No blazing guns, no dramatic scene. I’m relieved, but the relief only lasts a moment.
Then the doubt sets in.
What if they’re playing me? I’m not sure I see the benefit in doing such a thing… unless they just want me to go quietly. Obviously it calms me to make me think I’m escaping with my life, but what if that’s the point? Feed me bullshit so that I march to my death, thinking it’s the path to survival. What if this was my last meal, and Mateo just wanted me to think otherwise so I wouldn’t upset Mia more than she already was?
By the time we get back to Rafe’s bedroom, I have myself quite convinced that I’ve been bamboozled. Not sure enough to say so in front of the cameras, but still sure.
Rafe closes the door behind us and I head for the bathroom door. “Can you come help me? I can’t reach the zipper on this dress.”
“Sure,” Rafe murmurs, following me inside the bathroom.
Once the door is closed, I narrow my eyes and glare at him. “What are you trying to pull?”
His brow furrows in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“This is all bullshit, isn’t it? You’re telling me you’re going to help me just so I don’t cause a ruckus, just so these last days are peaceful, and it’s all bullshit, isn’t it?”
“I am helping you. I told you that.”
“But it’s bullshit.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Dante left. He left. Nothing happened.”
Rafe’s eyes widen. “What did you expect him to do? It was dinner. You think he’s going to take on Mateo with Colette by his side, right in the line of fire? I don’t think so. Use your head, Meg.”
“I am using my head, and my head says bullshitting me like this is exactly what Mateo would do to make everything smooth for fucking Mia! She made it through the last dinner; she’s not going to see me again, so you can tell me. Stop lying.”
Rafe grabs his head, eyes wide with exasperation. “You are obsessed with that fucking girl. Jesus Christ.”
My eyes bulge. “Says the man who wants her as a pet!”
“Wanting to fuck someone isn’t being obsessed with them.”
I scoff. “Boy, are you wrong.”
“This is stupid,” Rafe announces, turning around and reaching for the door knob.
“No.” I shove the door closed as he tries to open it.
“Would you stop?” he asks, glaring at me over his shoulder. “This is going to start looking suspicious.”
“Not if it’s bullshit,” I fling back, eyebrows rising haughtily.
“This is the last time I’m going to tell you it’s not bullshit.” He shakes his head. “I don’t need you. I was offering you a lifeline. I was being nice. If you keep being a pain in my ass, I’ll put a bullet in your fucking head myself.”
I’m still leaning on the door, trying to keep it shut, but my strength is obviously no match for his. He wrenches it open without trouble and abandons me in the bathroom with all my doubts.
Chapter Eighteen
Mia
Mateo knows how sad I am, so he gives me the rest of the night off.
We spend a little bit of cuddle time with Roman after dinner, but come bedtime, Mateo hands him off to Ju instead of putting him to bed in the room next to ours. Mateo does Rosalie’s bedtime story alone and I stay in bed, blankets pulled up over my head, heart heavy with dread and grief.