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I am coming with Mom and my new BF… Are you going to be at the house or your grandparents’ estate?
BF? What the fuck?
I see fucking red. Who does she think she is, bringing a boyfriend to my house? Weeks after what we did. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t care. I wouldn’t give a shit who a girl fucked after me. But not Kyla. She’s different. She’s always been different.
My dad looks at the message I’m still staring at on my screen. “Oh, fuck,” he curses under his breath. And then his hand lands on my shoulder. “Son, do not do anything stupid. For the love of God, find a nice Italian girl or something. This… is a mess you don’t want showing up on your doorstep,” he says, pointing to the text.
“I’m going to fucking slit his throat and drop the fucker’s corpse at her feet. Maybe then she’ll think twice about trying to parade her boyfriends around right in front of my fucking face,” I grind out so hard I can nearly taste blood in my mouth.
“No, that is exactly what you’renotgoing to do,” Pops says, a finger aimed in my direction.
“What if it were Ma? Would you have let her bring other guys around you?” I ask him.
“I did, for many years. Your mother and I both dated other people while I was waiting for her to get on board with the idea of us being together,” he tells me.
“So, how did you not kill 'em all? And how’d you get her to finally give in to being with you?”
“I didn’t kill 'em because I knew it would upset her, and the last thing I ever wanted to do was upset your mother. And you already know how we ended up together. We’ve never hid that story from you kids. I took her to Vegas. We got drunk and got married.” He smiles proudly.
“So, I should take Kyla to Vegas, then?” I say while trying to figure out a way to do just that. I mean, she can’t have some boyfriend hanging around if she’s married to me, now, can she?
“No, you should find yourself a girl without a crazy psychopath for a father.”
“Dominic McKinley isn’t a psychopath,” I’m quick to counter, then add, “Well, maybe he is, but you can’t hold that against his kids. They’re not like him.”
Kyla certainly isn’t. She’s the sweetest girl I know. Although, right now, I admit I want to wrap my hands around her pretty little neck and squeeze.
A fucking boyfriend!
ChapterThirteen
“Fuck, it’s hot here,” Alessandro curses as we exit the jet.
I slap him over the back of the head. “Language,” I warn him.
“What’d I say?” he questions.
“You know what you said, son,” I tell him.
“And you do know I’m twenty-three, notthree?” he fires back.
“Alessandro, you will never be too old for me to put you on your ass. Have some goddamn fucking respect for your mother and stop cursing in front of her.” I shoot a glare in his direction.
His eyes widen. “Sorry, Ma,” he apologizes to Maddie.
“It’s fine. Theo, can we get in the car now? It is freaking hot out here,” my wife says.
“I’m sweating my tits off. God, this summer is going to be hell,” Liliana, my not so graceful daughter, announces for all the world to hear.
I look at Maddie. “How the fuck did we produce such heathens?” I ask her.
“They get it from your side of the family.” She smirks.
“Probably. They sure as fuck don’t get it from you. You’re fucking perfect,” I say, holding the car door open for her.
“Gross, and why is it you can curse but I can’t?” Alessandro huffs.
“I’m not her son.” I smile.
