Page 103 of Matteo

“We’ll see,” I shrug as I hug a squirming Layla close.

Matteo

Tomorrow is my wedding day. Yesterday was a perfect day, celebrating Layla’s birthday. I’m only in my home office checking out the prices of ponies—I’m not going to get her one. Yet.

I’m checking to find out if there’s enough room on our property to build a stable when my cell phone rings.

The display has me cursing. It’s Sean.

“Sir, I’m sorry to inform you that he’s sitting on the address from the protection order.”

Fuck.

“A little warning would have been good.” I bite out.

“I apologize, sir. He never said anything out loud about coming for her. There’s a woman here in the city he’s sleeping with. The last time he was here a week ago—he didn’t so much as say her name. This was completely unexpected.”

That’s not the truth. There’s a reason Sean and other men were assigned to Daniel Richards. As well as men protecting Layla and Amy the moment they stepped out of the condo.

I expected him to come after Amy. Once he saw she was about to marry a billionaire, he’d be back for more than thirty thousand dollars.

Out of my office, I find Doris with Layla as they walk around what was once the sitting room but is now taken over by Layla’s toys. “Where’s Amy?”

Layla reaches for me. I take her and kiss her cheek.

“She’s lying down with a headache.”

“I need to run to the clinic. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

She nods. “I’ll tell her if she wakes up before you return.”

With a kiss on Layla’s cheek, I hand her back to Doris. “Be right back, baby.”

A drive that would normally take fifteen minutes takes less than ten.

He jumps when I knock on his window. It’s a few seconds before he gives in and rolls his window down. “Yeah.”

“Can I help you with something?”

A hand runs over his face. “You took advantage of me.”

“I took advantage of you? In what way?” I’m genuinely curious.

Swearing, he gets out of the car. He points a finger at me in anger. “You knew if I knew you were a billionaire that I’d want more money. I deserve more money. I supported her?—”

I shake my head. “You’ll get nothing. Stay away from me, Layla, and Amy.”

“Hey, don’t fucking walk away from me. I can contest the divorce. And Layla’s custody. I’ll say you threatened me to get me to sign.”

“That might work—if I hadn’t recorded our entire encounter.”

His eyes go wide. “No way. You can’t be recording people. That shit is illegal.”

This guy is painfully stupid. “Texas is a one-party state.”

He’s thinking hard.

“It means, dumbass, that only one person of those recorded needs to give permission to be recorded. I was recorded, and I gave my permission. I don’t need your permission. It’s perfectly legal. You’re too late on everything. With your convictions of abuse against your previous girlfriend and her brother, and the evidence of you beating Amy, a judge approved all of it. The divorce is already finalized, as is your loss of rights to Layla.”

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