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Luca takes a step backward, away from all of us. His dark eyes, the same ones that match his brother’s, look from Drago, then down to me, and finally stop on Gabe.
“Mia,” Justin calls out. “Why don’t you go jump on Uncle D’s couch?” He smirks, eyeing Drago.
Drago steps away from me, grabbing the remote control off the coffee table.
“That’s a great idea, actually. I’ll turn on cartoons. Come on, kiddo.”
Luca seems reluctant to set his daughter down on the floor, so finally, I walk past him, heading into the kitchen and calling out behind me,
“Follow me.” I need a cup of coffee anyway.
Grabbing a large mug, I walk over to his fancy machine. This is new, and it looks like he’s already made a whole pot, or half a pot, judging by the weight of the container.
“Babe,” D says as I tip the spout over my mug. Oh, that smells wondrous. I inhale the aroma.
Looking over my shoulder, I see Eric pulling out a bar stool and taking a seat. Justin leans his back against the counter on the opposite side of him, crossing his arms over his chest.
Drago stands next to E, leaning over the counter onto his forearms, looking at me with a “what are you doing?” question in his eyes. Luca, on the other hand, has his back against the wall next to the refrigerator, looking back and forth between us, trying to interpret our silent conversation, I’m guessing.
“What?” I shrug, needing him to just say whatever it is he’s thinking right now.
Justin smirks, but when I cut my eyes to his, he bites his cheek, trying to stop the laugh from bubbling out of his mouth. It makes me want to punch him because he obviously knows what Drago is silently saying to me.
“Maybe check the coffee drawer to see if there’s decaf?” Drago lifts his right eyebrow, and it’s then I realize what he’s conveying.
“Oh, this”—I raise the cup of coffee, walking forward—“is for Detective Summers.”
“So it’sDetectivenow, is it?” Justin takes the steaming black coffee from my hand, smirking as he brings it to his lips.
A low growl erupts from Drago’s mouth. Following that deadly sound, I see his teeth bared, his hard eyes challenging the IA detective.
I almost laugh. Jealously looks hot on him.
Serves him right for the times I had to watch Rebecca De Luca hang all over him.
“Are you going to explain what you meant by that’s your kid? It’s not like the two of you have known each other long enough to have one.” Luca goes on, not stopping to let his brother or anyone else interject. “And for all the shit you gave me about not wrapping up my junk, I’m having a hard time swallowing you knocked up some random chick. Sorry, bro, but I’m not buying it. Maybe he’s Bri’s, but he’s not yours.”
“Hey!” I take offense at the “some chick” remark.
Gabriel squirms in my arms, so I place my free hand on his back, rubbing softly. I don’t bother searching for decaffeinated coffee. If I can’t have the real stuff, then what’s the point?
“He is hers.” Drago’s eyes meet mine briefly before looking back at his brother. “Not biologically, but in every other way, the boy is Bri’s.” Drago sighs heavily. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Babe,” I call out, passing Gabriel to him over the top of the counter. “Just tell him what we know. There’s no good way to say it. Want a coffee?”
“Please.” Drago nods.
I try to tune out their conversation the best I can. Rehearing it all is the last thing I want to sit through. It still pisses me off. I don’t know who to direct most of my anger at.
Chasity Carlisle for sexually assaulting Drago? His father for what he was setting into motion? Diaz is dead, so I don’t see a reason to continue giving that man any more thought. Justice was served when Sebastian Diaz’s life ended—at least, in my opinion, it was just.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Luca booms, startling not only Gabriel but me too, making me almost spill the full coffee mug I’m walking back over with.
Drago’s brother is the easy-going one. Nothing ever seems to get under his skin. Of course, it’s not like I’ve been around him that many times, so maybe I’m wrong about him.
“Daddy!” Mia stomps around the corner, her hands on her little hips, eyeing her father with a stern look that makes me laugh. “Bad word. Very bad word.”
Luca grits his teeth, closing his eyes for half a second. When he opens them again, he forces a smile while bending down to his daughter’s level.
