Chapter Seven
Vince
I want to kill Mia.
I’m starting to understand how the men in my family snap over these stupid fucking women—if she sits there blubbering over the bullshit little fake family I ripped her out of for five more minutes, I’m going to push the bitch out of my moving car.
I need to get off the road. I’m exhausted and she’s frying my last nerve. I can’t handle her like this. I didn’t expect her hysterical. I’m not sure why—she’s just Mia, and she’s not a fighter, she’s a survivor. I remembered her more passive. I remembered her willing to adapt to her surroundings, no matter how unpalatable, to stay alive.
She’s been fucking a murderous mob boss for the last four years while sharing him with her best friend, for fuck’s sake. That wasn’t her life’s dream. She adapted.
And she’ll adapt to this, I remind myself. It’s just fresh, and she’s scared. She doesn’t know what’s going on. She probably never expected to actually see me again.
To be honest, it was a nice surprise that she was so pleased to see me. I didn’t expect that. I’d hoped for it, of course, but my expectations were lower. I never even imagined it would be so easy to convince her to get in my car, or to go out for a drink. But Mia’s nature is still so goddamn trusting. I don’t know how she holds onto that. I thought for sure these years with Mateo’s mind games would’ve obliterated her ability to trust anything.
“Why are we stopping?” she asks, hope creeping into her voice as I put the car in park. We’re at a hotel—why the fuck does she think we’re stopping? But I don’t say that. Because I can tell by her inflection that she’s hoping like hell I’ve been marinating in her words over here, that I’m reliving my own childhood, that I’m feeling guilty. She’s hoping I’ll turn around. She’s hoping I’ll stop and take her back to him with my tail between my fucking legs.
Fuck that.
Isabella isn’t my responsibility. I don’t like the idea that Mia’s planted in my head about her losing a second mother, but I have a hard time picturing Mia mothering her anyway. Not that Mia isn’t maternal—she is. She wanted a baby, and I wouldn’t give her one. I should’ve. None of this ever would’ve happened if I’d have stopped being so goddamn stubborn. If I would’ve been smart and trapped her ass the one way that would’ve worked.
I didn’t want to be that guy though. I didn’t want to be a Morelli.
Oh well. Better late than never, I guess.
Honestly, I can’t believe Mateo hasn’t impregnated her in all this time. It makes me wonder if Mia’s even able to have kids. I was floored when I first found out he’d only had a baby with Meg; I thought maybe that meant he and Mia weren’t together anymore.
No one told me she wore his fucking ring. That pissed me off. It’s a fucking mockery on top of an insult. Mia made it clear she didn’t want to marry me, and a man who’s already engaged can’t get engaged to a second fucking person. He can’t marry them both.
“Where are you going?” she asks, trying to sit up, to look around. I don’t know if she’s just taking in her surroundings, or looking for a person to call out to for help. It pisses me off to think she actually would, but she looks like a caged animal, just waiting for a chance to bite me.
“I’m getting a room,” I tell her. “Sit your ass there and don’t do anything stupid.”
“Too late,” she mutters.
I slam the car door shut, hitting the locks. It’s not like she can go anywhere, but she could still be a pain in my ass. If she called out for help and got someone’s attention, I would be in hot water. It wouldn’t be over. She’d feel worse in the long run, because I’d get out of it, but it sure would be a fucking disaster for anyone she got involved.
I should’ve told her that. Mia’s a lot less likely to fight if she knows I’m not a one-man show over here, that I have muscle behind me, just like the bastard she betrayed me for. She won’t try to save herself at the cost of innocent bystanders. Mia’s not made that way.
I’m already inside now. I can see her out the lobby windows. I just want to get a room and get some sleep so we can get back on the road. I just want to get back home.
The desk attendant can see that I’m impatient. I intentionally picked a little hole in the wall hotel so this would be easy. Once I get the room key, I hustle back out to the car, tense until I see Mia still inside the car.