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I looked over at the waitress and saw her smiling kindly at me.
“No, thank you. But I would enjoy some water,” I said.
“Water for me as well,” Romeo said. “Also, two steaks, medium rare. Mushrooms on hers but not on mine. Each with a side of garlic broccoli, then add a salad to mine and fries to hers.”
I stared at Romeo, attempting to hide my disbelief.
The beautiful bastard remembered.
“I’ll get right on it and have your waters out soon,” the waitress said.
“So,” Romeo said as he unbuttoned his suit jacket, “how’s Matteo?”
The sound of my son’s name falling from his lips pulled me from my trance.
“How do you know his name?” I asked.
“He’s my son. I know a great deal about him.”
I narrowed my eyes slightly as I scooted heavily into the cushion at my back.
“Is he not my son?” Romeo asked.
I swallowed thickly as the server set our waters in front of us.
“Thank you,” I said as I reached for the glass.
I took a long pull before I set it back down on the table.
“He is,” I said. “Matteo’s your son.”
“I would like to see him.”
“No,” I said plainly.
“You just said he’s my son. I would enjoy being a part of his life. Something your father didn’t give me a chance to do.”
“Are you done blaming a dead man for your quarrels?” I asked.
I watched his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. Yeah, I wasn't the timid, meek-minded girl from seven years ago. I had a son, and I meant to keep him out of the hands of the families. I was determined to keep him away from this lifestyle, to shield him from everything I’d witnessed as a little girl.
“You can’t see him,” I said.
“Might I ask why?”
“Because I’m keeping him away from everything to do with—”
I bit the inside of my cheek as Romeo nodded his head.
“I see.”
“Why did you do it?” I asked.
“Do what?”
“Why did you take your father’s place?”
I watched something flash behind his eyes, but I couldn’t decipher what it was. Guilt. Pain. Possibly anger? I wasn’t sure. That was the thing with Romeo. He was good at covering up his feelings.
