He straightens to his full height, eyes narrowing on me. I know he doesn’t much appreciate my bringing her up again, but I don’t much care. Fuck this guy if he thinks that’s adequate. He’s threatening Mark for doing not a damn thing to Mia, but he expects me to just accept this non-retaliation for Delmonico wronging Francesca? Fuck that.
It also occurs to me that given what I know about his treatment of Mia, this is maybe not the best approach to whet his thirst for justice. Mateo is a predator, too. Maybe he doesn’t care because he has the same fucked up appetites. Maybe Mia feels the same fear Francesca’s experienced, and it’s because of him.
Given he is a logical motherfucker, though, he seems to run through the point I’ve made.
“I don’t imagine I have to tell you how bad it would be for business if it got out that I let you kill off one of my top-earners,” Mateo finally says.
“So I make it look like an accident,” I reply, immediately. “I’m not some fucking amateur, you kidding me? No one would ever have to know.”
“I’ll think about it,” he says, nodding once. “I definitely won’t give him to you for the peace agreement, but I’ll have to get you a wedding present, won’t I?”
That snags my attention. “Then I have your permission?”
He nods, pushing off the desk and walking over to his alcohol cart. “I think it’s a good idea, making a permanent, visible alliance like this. You clearly care for my sister; she obviously wants to be with you. When were you thinking?”
Well, shit, I didn’t have a date in mind. I expected him to give me a harder time than that, but I guess he’s not one to waste his own time. “I don’t know. I haven’t even asked her yet.”
Smiling faintly, he says, “Do you think there’s much risk of her saying no?”
“Well, no, but I still have to ask. Not to mention you just got engaged, didn’t you? I’m sure she doesn’t want to steal your thunder.”
He brings over a tumbler of alcohol, handing it to me and leaning back against his desk, retrieving his from the surface. “My wedding can wait. Yours is more pressing. It should happen soon. Three months?”
“That certainly is soon,” I murmur, looking down at the glass a little hesitantly before taking a drink.
“The sooner, the better,” he says. “I’m sure you’re eager to start a life together. We’re all eager to put this ugliness behind us and get back to business as usual. The sooner you two get married, the sooner we have something in writing.”
“I don’t know if I can manage three months. I have a funeral to plan now…”
Nodding pensively, he says, “Yes, so do we.”
“Yeah, so… In light of all that, maybe we wait a little longer. Six months, at least, out of respect.”
Mateo shakes his head decisively, and I get the impression I don’t actually have a say here. “Three. The old regime is out; the new regime is in charge. We don’t have to follow some bullshit mourning period. They’ll get funerals, and then we move on with our lives.”
This is why my father hated this man. I don’t know if he rejects the respect owed others deliberately or if there’s something wrong with the way he thinks, but he’s not fucking normal.
It’s going to piss Ma off something fierce, but I don’t want to argue over ultimately insignificant shit with this bastard. I don’t care when I marry Francesca, only that I do. I’ve already lost my father and a dozen men to this bullshit; I just want it to end.
“Fine, three months.”
Now Adrian speaks up. “And we want Ethan.”
Mateo’s eyebrows rise just long enough that I don’t think he knew that, but after flicking a brief glance at Adrian, he turns his attention back to me.
“Ethan’s a free agent. You don’t need my blessing.”
“He said he’s been doing work for you,” Adrian states.
I shrug. “A few things here and there, but he’s not on contract. He doesn’t like being a bad guy.” Nodding in Mateo’s direction, I add, “He’s also not going to do any kind of work for him, but you’re welcome to make him an offer if you want to.”
Mateo rolls his eyes. “Won’t work for me, my ass. Why not?”
“He’s a Boy Scout,” I inform Mateo. “Don’t know why you’d even want him.”
“Ah, so that’s why you like him,” Mateo says to Adrian, amused now.
Adrian doesn’t appear to be amused.
Since I assume this is a conversation for another time, Mateo pulls his attention from Adrian and looks back at me. Without a word, I can tell he wants me to stand now, that he’s ready to dismiss me. Damned if I don’t rise, like I’m following this bastard’s wordless command.