by Sam Mariano
Mateo needs to know, though.
I’ll tell him Monday, after the funeral. Drop the bomb and leave, that way I don’t have to witness the fallout.
Chapter Thirty
Vince
Like every Easter Sunday since Isabella was born, this one starts with the kids getting baskets. There are five baskets now and five excited little kids tearing into them. Meg helps Roman, who is a little more into it than Dom. Mia is on her own giving Dom his basket. Mateo’s here, but he’s just watching everyone. Dom keeps reaching for the grass and trying to eat it. Since I’m pretty sure that will kill him, I step up and help Mia give him all the little presents she picked out for him.
Last night when Mia and Adrian were coloring eggs with the kids, I came to understand why he’s been dubbed her second husband. Mateo’s around, but for the most part he hung back with Rafe and let Adrian do the heavy lifting with the kids and Mia. She seemed accustomed to it and not overly bothered, but this morning Adrian is doing Easter with his own kids, so she’s short a husband.
When Mateo realizes I’m filling the void he left, he reluctantly leaves his new best friend Rafe and comes over to replace me.
“I’ve got it from here,” he tells me.
“You sure?” I shoot back. “You can stay over in the bachelor section with your buddy Rafe and I’ll pull daddy duty. Doesn’t bother me—especially considering, you know, I am his daddy.”
“Don’t be bitter, Vince. It’s not becoming.”
“When did you and Rafe get so tight, anyway? Remember last year when you guys hated each other’s guts?”
“That’s a slight exaggeration,” Mateo replies. “We disliked each other’s guts.”
“Now he comes to Easter dinner?”
“He was coming for Ben’s funeral tomorrow anyway. We have business to discuss. It doesn’t concern you—like everything else that happens in this family.”
Mia shoots us both withering looks, then reaches into Dom’s basket, shaking off Easter grass and showing him a new book with a bunny finger puppet attached. She sticks her finger in and wiggles it. “Look at this. Isn’t that so cool?”
“Now you have business,” I say, nodding. “You just can’t stop, can you? I bring Mia to the one place you can’t come because everyone fucking hates you, now you have business there.”
Mateo’s lips curve up with mild amusement. “Well, you took my best diplomat into the lair of the beast. I wouldn’t have sent her myself, but since you did, why not rake in the benefits?”
“You’re an asshole.”
Mia looks over at us. “Can you two bicker somewhere else? We’re trying to enjoy Easter.”
Mateo and I exchange dirty looks, but I don’t want to fuck up Dom’s first Easter, so I retreat and head back to sit beside Carly and watch.
Carly takes my hand and I lean in to mutter, “I hate him so much.”
“Me too,” she agrees, vehemently. “He’s the worst.”
Laurel leans into our huddle, popping a jelly bean in her mouth. “I don’t. I love Mateo’s carefully selected claque. Staying at this house is like going on a cruise. There’s a show every hour, someone else cooks all my food, I’m living in luxury, and the bonus of a bronzed god in my bed does not hurt one bit.”
Carly cuts Laurel a look of disapproval. “It’s not a one night stand if it lasts two nights.”
“I’m sincerely hoping we go for three. What would that be?”
“A fling.”
Laurel nods. “A fling, then. An Easter fling. Is that a thing?”
“No, because people usually spend Easter with their families and family members generally do not have sex with one another,” Carly responds.
I nod my agreement. “They only have sex with one another’s spouses, apparently.”
Laurel shakes her head, sitting back. “I love it. I love your family. You’re all so crazy.”
“See?” Carly swats my arm. “They’re corrupting her.”
“They corrupt everybody,” I state.
Laurel sits forward, reaching over and poking me in the arm. “Who’s that?”
“Who’s who?” I look in the direction she nodded, but there are too many people, I’m not sure which one she’s referring to.
“The chick potentially trying to horn in on my Easter fling. Are they related?”
I glance across at Rafe and see him leaning back, smiling up at something Meg says.
“That’s Meg. Nope, she and Rafe are not related.”
Laurel narrows her eyes. “I have that man reserved for the night, bitch. Keep walking.”
“Should’ve put a sign on his crotch,” Carly advises, shaking her head in mock disappointment. “Common mistake.”
“I’m gonna go over there.”
“No.” Carly puts a hand on Laurel’s arm to stop her, then reconsiders and drops her hand. “Never mind, go ahead.”
Laurel grabs her egg full of jelly beans and heads toward Rafe.
Carly grins and practically rubs her hands together in glee.
“What?” I ask, suspiciously.
“He’s gonna hate this. He’s a confirmed bachelor and she sees him talking to another girl and gets clingy? He’s gonna run.”
“You’re mean.”
Carly’s blue eyes go wide. “I am not mean! I’m protecting her. Would you hook my sister up with a Morelli? I would legitimately hook her up with a wood chipper first.”
Since I am a Morelli, I have to frown at that. “So mean. I’m a Morelli.”
Looping her arm through mine and hugging me, she butters me up. “Well, obviously you’re the good one. But you’re the only good one. The rest are toxic.”
I raise my eyebrows as I watch for the train wreck Carly predicted, but it doesn’t happen. Rafe appears mildly amused at the way Laurel transparently vies for his attention in the face of perceived competition, but instead of losing interest and shooing her away, he plants his hands on her hips and yanks her into his lap. Once she’s straddling him, Laurel feeds him a jelly bean.
“I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t think it worked.”
“What? Impossible.”
“Nope. They’re kissing now. You fucked that all up.”
Carly is dismayed. “What?”
I nod, unable to fight back a mild smirk—and I don’t support this any more than she does. It’s fucking funny, though. My little badass and her plans. She keeps getting everything wrong. “She’s definitely getting that third night now. Good job, big sis.”
“Dammit! I’m losing my edge.”
“I should’ve warned you. He is a bachelor, but he likes his girls warm over cold any day of the week. If Laurel sat here and pretended not to care, he probably would’ve been less interested. She did the clingier thing and risked rejection, which probably seems more vulnerable to him… He’s weird. We’re all weird.”
Carly sighs, watching them. “I’m afraid she’s going to get attached. Laurel has never had a one night stand before and she fucked this one all up. The whole point of a one night stand is to hit it and quit it. Does that look like quitting it to you?”
“She only has one more night,” I assure her. “Rafe’s in town for my dad’s funeral. He’s heading back to Vegas tomorrow. Hell, we’ll probably be on the same flight.”
Carly shakes her head, bending down and retrieving an egg full of jelly beans from the basket on the ground. She pops it open and grabs a jelly bean. “Your family stresses me out.”
“One more day,” I tell her. “Just one more day.”
---
Dinner is a fucking fiasco.
Francesca and Salvatore had to visit Sal’s family before they could come to our dinner, so they don’t get there until dinner time, and they come with arms full of baskets, overflowing with candy and presents for the kids. I introduce them both to Carly, but if Sal recognizes her, you can’t tell.
The kids are actually present at dinner since it’s a holiday. It’s always so weird when kids
are around for the formal dinner, and since there are six kids to accommodate, the place is cramped. Mateo and Mia sit at their usual place, but Meg sits up by them today so Roman’s high chair can sit on the other open end of the table. Mateo is flanked by both boys today, and both of their mothers. Adrian and Elise have their baby boy with them, but the newborn is sleeping. Lily and Isabella are by Meg and Mia respectively. Dante and Colette are here with their two kids. Laurel and Rafe sit together. Carly and I end up on their other side, right across from Sal and Francesca. Cherie sits across from Alec, so at least I get to sit by the family members I actually like tonight.
“Jesus Christ, Mateo needs to stop procreating,” Cherie states.
“Mia’s already pregnant,” Carly informs her. “Should’ve doled out that advice a little sooner, future sister-in-law.”
I crack a smile and reach for the bread basket, grabbing one of the rolls and passing it to Carly. “Next year we’ll have to have Easter at our house. It’ll be a much smaller gathering. Feel free to come,” I tell Cherie and Francesca, glancing between them.
“And miss the Morelli family antics?” Sal asks, shaking his head. “No way. It’s part of my holiday traditions at this point.”
“Plus, once we have a baby, it won’t be so easy to travel. We have to go to church with his mom in the morning,” Francesca says, rolling her eyes. “According to her, she will actually perish if we don’t.”
Sal nods. “We’re too afraid to test out the theory that she’s wrong.”
“She’d probably die just out of spite,” Francesca states.
My eyebrows rose a couple conversation points ago. “Jump back to that baby part. Are you pregnant?”
Francesca flushes, but shakes her head. “Not yet, but we’re thinking soon.”
Sal points his fork at me. “Your fault. Dom has given her some fierce baby fever.”
“He’s so cute I could die,” Francesca states.
Carly nods her understanding. “He really is. We’re biased, but he is.”
Cherie frowns, confused. “Wait, how is that Vince’s fault? Mateo’s son, Dom?”
I grimace at the realization that Cherie doesn’t know Dom is mine. I guess that makes sense. Mia said when I took her last year that she and Cherie didn’t talk much anymore. She told me Cherie moved out of the mansion to get away from Mateo after he fake-killed me. I assumed Maria kept her up-to-speed with the goings on, but I guess she didn’t tell her this one.
Great. Not looking forward to that conversation. How do I explain to my sister, a product of rape, that I did the same thing as the bastard father she’s always hated?
Carly bails me out, brightly telling Cherie, “We’re going to get a big house with a couple guest bedrooms so you and Laurel can both come for holidays if you want. You should bring your mom.”
Cherie rolls her eyes. “My mom doesn’t get holidays.”
“What? That’s crazy. Why not?”
“Mateo,” Cherie says, not bothering to hide her annoyance.
“She also doesn’t have anywhere else to go,” I tell her. “Next year if we have a house and we invite them, maybe he’ll let her.”
Carly nods, looking up at Mia. “I’m gonna ask Mia.”
“Mia doesn’t make the rules, she just slavishly follows Mateo’s,” Cherie states.
“I don’t think it’s that simple. I’m not going to say much about it though; last time I called him on his shit on camera, he ruined my life,” Carly replies.
Chapter Thirty One
Vince
We all eat until we’re stuffed, then get double dessert since it’s Easter. Mia gets up and helps serve, handing out dove-shaped Easter cake to this side of the table while Maria serves the other side. The other maid follows, refilling all the wine glasses so we can all continue to tolerate one another.
“I can’t possibly eat another bite,” Laurel states, looking down at her sweet bread.
Carly leans forward and looks over at her. “I know, I want to desperately, but my stomach is too full. I think this is what failure feels like.”
I smirk over at Carly. “They haven’t even served the chocolate eggs yet.”
“Not more chocolate eggs,” Sal says, groaning. “Easter with both families is too much.”
Francesca accepts her plate with a big grin. “Speak for yourself. Give me all the dessert.”
Some of us know our limits and give up, while others attempt dessert at the risk of feeling utterly miserable. On this side of the table, we all finish our wine.
Once the meal is over, we all retire to one of the larger sitting rooms. There’s more alcohol, but I don’t know if it’s a good idea or not. Those of us who dislike one another may start to get ornery. On the other hand, those of us who do like each other may start liking each other a little too much.
Carly stopped obsessing over Rafe and Laurel so much once her plan backfired earlier, but with the alcohol flowing through their veins, Laurel is cuddly and Rafe keeps her close. He sits on the couch with Mateo so they can talk and Mia sits in the floor at Mateo’s feet, playing with Dom and Roman.
Meg is into the wine. I consider going over and talking to her. I still have to tell Mateo what she did either way, but I’d like to see if she still seems open to causing trouble for Mia.
Patting Carly’s leg, I tell her, “I’ll be back.”
This is the first time in years I’ve seen Meg not pregnant. She sips her wine and surveys the room, pausing when her gaze lands on mine and she sees me approaching.
“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Meg remarks.
I smirk faintly. “Having a good Easter?”
“Best yet,” she offers, brightly. Her gaze flickers past me toward where Mateo is sitting, next to Rafe. I don’t know whether she doesn’t want to be caught talking to me, or she shares my struggle and sometimes can’t control where her gaze goes.
She feels off, but it could just be that we haven’t seen each other in so long. “Don’t want to be caught talking to me?”
Meg scoffs, bringing her gaze back to me. “Just talk loudly so Mateo can listen to it later and make sure we’re not up to anything sinister.” She turns left then right, looking everywhere she expects a camera to be. “Innocent conversation. Just saying hi.”
I turn to glance back at Mateo, but Mia catches my gaze first. She’s watching my proximity to Meg with no small amount of concern. Her blue eyes beckon me, but this time I swear it’s on purpose. Maybe she’s afraid I am about to do something stupid.
I glance back at Meg, torn. She’s right, though, I can’t say much to her in full view of the cameras. Even if I tried to fish and see if she’d be open to more conspiring, if Mateo watched the footage later, he might believe it. Even if he didn’t, he could pretend to and use it as an excuse to kill me.
“I see you found a new Mia,” Meg remarks, before I can get away. “Does Mateo have a warehouse of blue-eyed blondes somewhere? Just fires one up and dispatches her whenever he needs to?” She cocks her head, regarding the couch again. “Though, this time he seems to have called on a brunette model.”
I frown in confusion, then turn back to look at the couch. The only brunette she could possibly be referring to is Laurel, sleepily resting her head on Rafe’s shoulder.
My gaze is in her vicinity, so it drifts back to Mia and Dom anyway. Since her first eye-only attempt didn’t work, now Mia adds in a smile and crooks her finger, beckoning me with more adamancy.
I barely glance back at Meg. “It was nice catching up. I’m gonna…”
Meg smiles and nods. “Go ahead.”
I don’t like sitting this close to Mateo, but she’s still in the floor at his feet with the babies. Roman is sitting up, smashing cloth blocks against the floor. Dom is lying on the floor in front of Mia’s curled up legs, eating his fist and smiling.
I do my best to ignore my proximity to Mateo and drop down on the floor with Mia and the babies. “How’s he liking Easter?”
Right now he and Roman are wearing matching tan suits, Roman with a pastel blue shirt underneath, Dom with a bright teal. It’s cute as hell, but probably not the easiest thing for him to move around in.
“He really digs the eggs, though.” She holds up a shimmery blue egg and shakes it. It must have beads or something in it because it makes a rattling sound and Dom reaches for it.
His eager little kicks further sell it as Mia holds the egg just out of his reach. She caves quickly and hands it over. He holds it and stares at it once it’s in his hands, but he’s not quite sure what to do with it.
Roman reaches over and grabs it right out of his hand. Dom jerks in surprise, then starts screaming. Roman shakes the egg, unconcerned with his screaming brother.
“Roman, you have to share,” Mia tells him, plucking a different colored noisy egg from Dom’s basket and trying to give it to him to replace the one Roman stole.
Dom will not take the egg. He continues to cry his little eyes out.
Mia sighs, her narrow shoulders drooping.
I take the yellow egg from her and reach over to fix the problem myself, plucking Dom’s egg out of Roman’s hand and replacing it with the yellow one.
Roman eyes me up for a few seconds like he can’t believe my gall. I can’t muster any remorse. Mateo’s son is already an asshole. Pointing my finger at him, I tell him something Mateo probably never will. “Don’t take what’s not yours.”
Dom quiets down once I give him his egg back, but now I’m feeling protective. I don’t even want him in the floor with Mateo’s little brat. Without asking Mia this time, I scoop Dom up so I can hold him. His little face is still slightly red from crying, tear stains on his cheeks. I know they’re just babies, but it still fires me up. I wipe his cheek dry with the back of my finger.
“Don’t let him push you around,” I tell Dom. “He will, if you let him.”
Mia scoots forward, looking a little uncomfortable. “They usually play nice. Well, sometimes. They’re just babies.”
