Page 96 of Vengeful Vows
“You need to pull your head out of your ass.”
Politely I nod at him and Dario, Don Raffaele’s youngest son who serves as his father’s official CFO.
The truth is, even though I’m trying to concentrate, the numbers seem to be swimming in my burning eyes.
“Don’t make us question what you’re doing here.”
Though Matteo’s threat pisses me off, I know he’s right. Through the years, Roberto has been steadfast at the don’s side, and they have decades of history that has informed their decision making. I am new to the game, and so far I’m not making a good impression.
Behind his desk, Dario picks up a pen that he walks through his fingers as he studies me. “This have anything to do with Bella?” Unlike his older brother, he seems more curious than frustrated.
“Of course it does,” Matteo snaps. “He’s fucking losing his shit over his wife.”
Because Bella has stopped attending Sunday dinners, they realize there are issues in my marriage. But I haven’t mentioned the fact Bella has left me. That much I can’t bring myself to do. In addition to admitting my failure, I’ll have to own the shame of being the first Moretti to be divorced.
“Women want one thing,” Dario says.
“BS,” Matteo challenges. “It’s two.”
I should never have allowed my brain to wander. Now I have to endure this.
Matteo holds up one finger. “A credit card with no limit.”
His last relationship crashed hard, leaving behind a pile of debris that Roberto and the don had to help clean up.
“And…” He lifts a second finger. “Unconditional love. No matter how the fuck they behave.”
At least I’m not as disenchanted as he is.
“Three,” he corrects himself. “Constant damn proof of said love. Flowers. Trinkets. And watch the fuck out if you forget a dating anniversary, holidays, birthdays, or any kind of fake reason they need to be adored.”
When he’s finished, Dario, more restrained, thoughtful, supplies, “It’s one. Security.”
“As I said, a credit card with no limit,” Matteo snaps back. “Don’t question any expenditure. Just pay the bill.”
I’d provided Bella with that, and she rarely spent my money. Until recently. On the other hand, the fact she has no home of her own is my fault. She wanted to keep her condo, but I ensured it was rented out immediately to a soldier in my organization.
Still, she’s been respectful except for the night I sent over the divorce agreement.
Sergio informed me that Amelia had visited her. So I have no doubt Bella’s friend was partially responsible for the steakhouse and La Patisserie extravagances.
Had they been celebrating her freedom?
That part bothers me.
“Financial stability is part of it,” Dario agrees easily, the conversation having gone on around me. “But only part.”
“Enlighten us,” Matteo says, doubt dripping from his words.
“It’s knowing that there’s trust and someone to count on.”
“Spoken like someone who has no idea what the hell they’re talking about.”
Dario is a player with no intention of ever settling down. He’s fucked half of the eligible women in Houston and never brought a single one to a Sunday dinner.
“Can we get back to business?” Matteo says. He levels a harsh stare at me. “If it’s not too much effort for you?”
Clenching my jaw, I return my attention to the report on the family’s real estate investments.