“He keeps us safe,” I reply, hearing my own defensiveness. “There are threats outside these walls, so naturally he feels better when we’re inside.”
“I think that’s an excuse,” Rafe decides, so cavalier in the way he judges our life. “I think he keeps you locked up so you can’t cause more trouble than you already do. Beth was a troublemaker too, you know.”
“I am not a troublemaker.”
“Mateo’s lucky Adrian was born with loyalty in his bones. I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t taken Mateo out and replaced him already.”
I scowl. “He would never.”
Rafe shrugs, unimpressed by my vehemence. “His mistake. Should’ve pounced as soon as Mateo started showing weakness.”
I want to get up and demand he stop saying things like this—as if stopping him from saying it can stop him from thinking it—but I manage to keep my blood from boiling over. Adrian told me to listen, so I will.
I’m still going to defend my husband; I’ll just have to do it without stabbing Rafe in the face. “Mateo has never shown weakness. Mateo is a brilliant leader and he has issued plenty of unpleasant calls. He’s had to eliminate his own siblings, for fuck’s sake.”
“Sure, and that was right,” Rafe states. “That’s what you do to a threat—you eliminate it. You’ve declawed him, though. You get in his way when he tries to deal with people who would hurt him.”
“That is not true. I would never try to save someone who is harming Mateo.”
Rafe’s eyebrows rise. “You already have—on more than one occasion.”
“I meant a threat. Like, an actual threat, not…”
He gives me a minute to finish that sentence, and when I don’t, he nods. “So did I.”
“Vince was just… he was young and it was a long time ago. Mateo had done some things to me that hurt Vince—”
He holds up a hand. “Let me stop you right there. I don’t care.”
I frown. “What?”
“Reasons don’t matter. Actions do. Did he collude to have Mateo killed?”
My spirits droop a little. “Yes.”
“Then he should be dead.”
“It’s not always that black and white,” I insist.
“Yes, it is,” he disagrees. “It absolutely is. You have feelings—congratulations. Your feelings don’t matter. If you want your family to be safe, your husband to be feared and respected, you let him deal with things the way he knows works. Otherwise, you’re inviting stronger predators who smell blood in the water and know they can do a better job. You’re putting your own family at risk for the benefit of people who hurt you. There’s a reason kind-hearted people don’t make it to the top in this business, Mia.”
I can’t take it anymore. He’s making me itch with anxiety. I sit up on the lounger, grabbing my phone from the ground and standing. “Mateo already told me if Vince fucks up again, he’s dead. I won’t get in his way again. I just wanted Vince to have a chance at a better life. If he throws this one away, I’ve already told Mateo I will respect his decision.”
I feel his eyes on me, so I glance his way as I walk around the lounger and head for the path back to the house. “And Meg?” he asks, meeting my gaze.
“Mateo already told me I have no say now in how he deals with Meg,” I state.
“But did he mean it? Or is he going easier on her to keep you happy?”
The tension in my shoulders is no joke. I need to go schedule a massage or something. “Enjoy the pool. I’m going inside. I’ll see you at dinner.”
Chapter Ten
Meg
“What were you like as a child?”
I cut Rafe a dirty look. He sits in his chair outside my cell, watching me like the way I peel this orange will shine light on some hidden corner of my soul. “What were you like as a child?” I shoot back.
He doesn’t hesitate to respond. “Observant. Curious. I’d say I was born that way, but I think I just learned young. My mother and father had a volatile relationship. Had to pay close attention if I wanted to know what kind of day we were going to have. As time went on and I got better at figuring people out, I realized I liked the power it gave me, so I kept honing it. Now here we are.” He nods his head at me. “Your turn.”
I ignore his request and use my nail to cut into the skin at the top of my fruit. “When are we going to circle back to what matters?”
“Doesn’t your past matter?”
I roll my eyes. “No. And to be honest, I’d strongly prefer we spend less time talking about the bad haircut I had in fifth grade and much more time discussing Dante and your dealings with him. If I’m going to be part of this, clue me in.”