Since when does Dante give a fuck about anyone having their head fucked up. “Fucked up how? Did someone die?”
“His wife of forty years.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
Dante nods gruffly.
I narrow my eyes as he avoids my gaze. “What’s on your mind, Dante?”
He scowls and meets my gaze this time. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been off this week. You’re always an asshole, but you’ve been a bigger asshole than usual toward me. Now you’re going soft on Enzo because he lost his wife. What’s going on with you?”
He’s silent long enough that I don’t think he’s going to answer me, then he unlocks his jaw just long enough to clip, “Colette is getting married.”
I don’t bother to hide my surprise. “She’s getting married?”
He nods once, tersely, like the movement is costly and he’s on a fucking budget.
“Well, shit. I’m sorry to hear that.”
He and Colette have been broken up for some time, but letting go isn’t a skill Morelli men tend to excel at. Once we write our name on the bottom of our favorite toy, it’s pretty much ours for the rest of its existence—for better or worse. Dante wasn’t ready to let go when Colette decided to, but he always figured she would come back.
Her marrying another man is probably not a step in that direction.
“Who’s the guy? Why don’t you send someone to talk to him? See if you can’t persuade him to look elsewhere for matrimonial bliss?”
“He’s a fucking lawyer,” Dante states. “Mr. Straight and Narrow.”
Colette was a little priggish for my tastes. I imagine Mr. Straight and Narrow is probably a better fit for her than Dante ever was, but I obviously don’t say that.
“Ah. Well, that makes it slightly more complicated.”
Dante shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “Doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t be letting this shit get in my head.”
I shrug, more forgiving today than I might have been before Mia. “It happens to the best of us.”
“I’ll get over it,” he assures me.
“I know you will,” I tell him.
—
When I enter the bedroom, Mia is still curled up in bed, looking like the light of her life has been extinguished. She normally brings me up, but that’s a bit of a downer. Perhaps this will cheer her up.
Draping a garment bag containing the white dress my shopper picked out for her, I tell Mia, “Time to get up.”
She frowns at me, like this is an unreasonable expectation. “Why?”
“It’s family dinner day,” I remind her. “Mandatory.”
“Still?” she demands.
I offer a faint smile and leave her to get ready. It’ll be the first time she’s left my bedroom for anything since Vince accosted her in the hall, and now she’ll have to see him again. I haven’t seen him yet today, myself. I’ve been busy. Now I pop into my surveillance room and pull up his room to see if he’s home. His closet door is open, so I guess he’s inside getting dressed.
I’m already bored. He’s so boring to watch without Mia.
I flip back to my bedroom to see if Mia’s out of bed yet. I wish I had made her go down to dinner yesterday, instead. I would have liked for her to be slightly less miserable with me the first time she had to see Vince again.
Even though it broke her a little, I replay her coming this morning. My cock stirs to life at the thought. I want to make her come again tonight, but after that, I should probably give her another day. I’ll go easy on her tonight, then tomorrow after dinner, Mia can be my dessert.
Yes, that’s a lovely plan.
Mia’s changing in the bathroom, so my bedroom is boring, too. I don’t have Adrian guarding the door though, so I wait until Mia comes out of the bathroom to make sure she’s coming down. She looks stunning in the white dress Claudine picked out for her. She wanders over toward the bed and stares at it for a moment. I zoom in, trying to get a clearer look. I can’t be certain, but I think she looks a little haunted.
I grimace at the realization, but she doesn’t linger long. She finds her shoes, slips them on, then leaves my bedroom and heads downstairs.
Since there’s no one accompanying her today, I head to the kitchen once she’s had enough time to show up. Vince was still in his room last I checked, so I shouldn’t have to worry about him running into her, but I’ll still feel better if I see her in my kitchen, preparing my dinner.
I go the back way to the kitchen, through the hallway the servants use instead of the dining room. That one is lesser used, especially by me, so I’m able to get an uninterrupted glimpse of Mia before she sees me. She still doesn’t look happy. That’s an understatement; she looks miserable.