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When she’s at home at night and I can’t have my eyes on her, I feel bereft in a way I’ve never experienced before. It makes me a little uncomfortable, but I’ve never been one to shy away from the things that make me feel butterflies or whatever girlie way this feeling is described.
I just want to be near her. Does it make any damn sense? Not at all, but I’m finding I don’t really give a fuck if it does or not.
I’ve always been one to embrace my quirks—my sense of humor, my sexual desires, my need to ferret out information, the need to watch people to understand them and then sometimes mimic them. I’m going to embrace whatever the hell is going on with Viola as well.
She spent some time today with the women of the Guidice family and Fleur. Dante’s woman, Jasmine, is pregnant and so is the woman two of Dante’s men—Tony and Zeno—have claimed. I’ve heard a lot of chatter about their woman, Posy, because Martinez had a deal with her father to marry her.
I shudder at the thought of what Posy’s life would have been like if she had ended up with Martinez. I might not like the Guidice family on principle, but I know they have respect for women, something Juan and his crew will never have.
I watched as Viola and the ladies went shopping for baby things and something stirred inside of me that I’ve never felt before. I couldn’t shake the image of Viola pregnant with our child. I’ve never considered children before, but if she was the mother? I’d be down for that, and I wouldn’t even question it.
You know the wild thing? Even though the father would, technically, only be one of us, it would really be all of us since we’re identical triplets. We’d never be able to find out who the true biological father is.
I’m not even sure why I’m having the thoughts I am right now. Probably because Viola is now in her house and safe for the night. I’m tempted to go around the block and call her to come out and see me. We could make a break for it.
I could take her back to our house.
Dinner with her was fun and relaxing in a way I haven’t experienced for a long time. Not since childhood when I was naïve to what my father’s business dealings were all about. Before our mother passed away. Before Bella morphed into a selfish, self-centered bitch.
Those were the days.
Everything around the table felt light and Mateo didn’t even talk about business the whole time, which is the only thing he does when we do sit down to have a meal together. Which, honestly, doesn’t happen as often as it should.
The three of us share a bond that no one can really understand, just like we share our DNA. We had shared a woman, sexually before, but I had never really considered the possibility of sharing one in a relationship between the three of us. Not until Viola.
It feels like something is just right there, right within our reach. We just have to grab it.
I let out a heavy sigh and look at Viola’s place one more time before I pull away and head home. The drive is surprisingly lonely even though I’ve been alone all day already. Odd.
When I arrive at home, I’m a little surprised to find Mateo’s car waiting for me. Massimo is home as well, but that’s not unusual. To find out big brother is home and not at work has me wondering what the fuck is going on and bracing for whatever news he has for us.
He was finishing up the deal with Martinez today for the guns we bought off Nikolai Orlov. If the deal goes well, I can see this being what we need to really and truly make a name for ourselves in the circles we need to be known in. It also paints a target on our backs in a different way.
Good thing I’ve never been one to run from danger.
The moment I walk inside, there’s a tension in the air which has me grinning. I don’t know if it’s the right reaction, but it’s the one I always have when I know shit is about to hit the fan. Why fear it? Why run from it?
I’d rather take on the hard shit head on with a smile on my face. None of it matters in the end, anyway. We all live for however long we live and then we die. Might as well try and find some humor in this life and not take things too seriously.
It’s a lesson I wish Mateo would learn; the man is tightly wound.
When I walk into the living room, I find Mateo sitting in one of the club chairs, a tumbler of whiskey dangling from the tips of his fingers and his eyes intent on the gas burning fireplace. I swear the dude loves action movie villain clichés and doesn’t disappoint when it comes to them at all.
I jump in with both feet because what other choice do I have?
“All clear on the Viola front. She did some more shopping today, but this time she had Jasmine and Posy with her. They looked at a lot of baby stuff. Like a lot of baby stuff.” I flop into a chair just as Massimo comes into the room from the kitchen, probably coming to get an update on Viola. Mateo clenches his jaw as his eyes snap to mine and he downs the rest of his drink. “They had a lot more security on them today.” I shrug one shoulder. “Not surprising considering the queen was out of the castle,” I snicker.
They all know I’m talking about Dante’s wife. I know it’ll get a rise out of Mateo because he hates the notion that Dante is king which would make Jasmine queen. The woman isn’t of our world, but from what I understand, she’s taken to it as if she’s always lived it. It’s not like women are usually involved, but she’s strong and gorgeous. Seems like queen material to me.
“I think this has become more than a job for you, brother,” Mateo sneers as his eyes bore into mine.
“So?” I smirk at him, knowing full well that I’m egging him on. It’s always amused me to get under his skin and it’s become increasingly difficult to do over the years. The way the vein in his forehead starts to throb tells me I’m on the right track. “What if it is? She’s a beautiful woman. I’m not mad about having to watch her and follow her around.” My eyes cut to Massimo, and I wink at him. “You get it, right, bro?”
Massimo tenses slightly before relaxing back into the other chair which sits opposite the couch I’m now sprawled across. The same couch where he fucked Viola just a few days ago.
“She’s a job,” Mateo grits out through his teeth.
I arch an eyebrow at him and lob back, “Is she?”
