In a hundred million years, I would have never imagined Mateo letting her have my baby. He must have known it could be mine. Mia can’t lie. How would Mateo Morelli, of all fucking people, accept that his wife was having another man’s child?
I know I don’t deserve any kind of rights after what I put her through, but damn, if it doesn’t hurt to know he’s going to grow up never even knowing me. Mateo is 90% of the reason I didn’t want to have kids when Mia and I were together, and now he’s going to raise my son.
Would she have been happy with me if I’d given her that baby when we were together? If we’d had Dom together, if his conception hadn’t been mean and ugly? I bet she would have tried harder with a baby involved. She wouldn’t have caved to Mateo so easily. She would have looked out for Dom, tried to keep us all together and happy. Mia was born to have a family. I bet she’s a great mom.
I glance back at the door, half expecting to see Adrian or Mateo standing there, glaring at me, but there’s no one. Maybe they aren’t watching the cameras on live view. Or, if they are, they probably just wouldn’t think to look for me in Mateo’s room.
Fuck it. I crawl as gently as I can to the other side of the bed, right next to her. Dom’s hand is slung over her shoulder. I settle into Mateo’s spot next to her and reach out to touch his hand, but Mia stirs. I freeze. She doesn’t open her eyes, just sighs and eases Dom down between us as she snuggles up against my side.
Well, shit.
I should say something. She thinks I’m Mateo. I’m in his room. In his bed. Lying beside his drowsy wife. Mia’s not the most conscientious half-asleep person; if him fucking her in my bed all those years ago wasn’t evidence enough, this sure is.
Dom throws an arm over mine, turning his face and snuggling my arm.
Yeah, I’m not getting up. Maybe I can sneak out before she wakes up. She’ll just think she dreamed Mateo came home. First I’m going to let Dom cuddle my arm for a little bit, because this is fucking adorable.
—
Something cold and hard presses into my temple so hard that my head moves. My head knocks into Mia’s. I jerk upright and the hard object is still pressed against my temple, but as the sleep fog quickly clears, dread creeps down my spine and I know exactly what it is.
I raise my hands to indicate I don’t want trouble, turning to meet Mateo’s glare as he holds his gun to my head.
“Relax,” I say, evenly. “I didn’t touch her.”
“Get the fuck off my bed,” Mateo returns, his tone caught somewhere between utterly calm and unrepentantly murderous.
I clear my throat, easing away from Mia. Dom moved around in his sleep so he’s snuggled up against Mia again. Since he’s not on my arm anymore, I’m able to move without waking him up.
The noises—or the head-knock—are enough to wake Mia, though. She rises up, twisting my way. Her sleepy smile promptly melts into alarm and her blue eyes widen. “Mateo, what the hell are you—?” She halts, realizing my presence in her bed makes no more sense than him standing there with his gun drawn. Then she looks down and sees her boob popped out of her shirt. She sighs irritably, tucking it away and pushing off the bed.
Since she was sleeping when I came in, she has no idea what is going on, but she still runs around the bed, putting a calming hand on Mateo’s chest, moving her body in front of him and doing her best to ease him back. He’s immovable, so her best effort fails, but she keeps trying to soothe him. “Nothing happened. He wasn’t—I don’t know—” She casts a look back at me for help, but realizes quickly there is no good explanation for why I’m on Mateo’s bed, so she gives up logic and just tries to snuggle him into putting his gun down, leaning in and murmuring things I can’t quite hear in his ear as she runs her hands over various parts of his body—his chest, his stomach, his arm, his back, his shoulder.
He continues to stare at me and I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he would love nothing more than to shoot me dead, right here, right now. Whatever illusion of civility he’s maintained since the moment he called me to tell me he had my father killed, the bloodlust burning in his eyes right now is what’s real. He wants me dead, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
His tone is hard and he keeps his gaze on me, but addresses Mia. “You were told not to go off alone with him. Anywhere, but I would think specifically not in a bed goes without saying.”