Page 85 of Matteo

“Holy shit, Matteo. Your grandfather put all of that into a trust, then made it so you couldn’t get it because you didn’t fall into line with him? That is so shitty.”

I bite back a bitter laugh. “Now you understand why I was so pissed off at him, and our relationship never really went back to the way it was before. It’s why you’re getting the allowance. I’m getting it for your support. As far as I’m concerned, it’s yours. But my mom not divorcing my dad for more than twenty years doesn’t make sense to me.”

“Wow, I can’t imagine being someone’s wife for so long without loving or even liking him.” Amy shakes her head.

“I don’t get why she’s resistant to the divorce. Or if that’s what’s going on between her and my grandfather. But I do think they’ve had an argument, and that’s why they were both tense today.”

“That’s not cool. Your grandfather stressing your mom out like that.” Amy frowns.

“Hey, we don’t know what’s going on. We need to stay out of it unless they ask for our help or input. It's none of our business.” I caution her.

Shrugging, she struggles to contain her bottom lip. “It doesn’t seem fair.”

“How it seems might be different from inside. Don’t get involved.” I’m firm.

“Fine.” She huffs.

CHAPTER 26

Matteo

I know I should tell Amy that I’m meeting with her ex this afternoon, but it never feels like the right time.

She and Layla are only gone for maybe three minutes before I leave, too.

The moment I’m in the car, I hook up my phone to the car’s Bluetooth and hit send on a number I’ve been calling often over the last few days.

“Sir? I’m falling behind you now. The men on him report every move he’s making is to plan.”

“Thank you, Sean. Hopefully, this is a smooth and simple process.” I end the call. Checking my rear-view mirror, I see him behind me as I get on I-35. The drive will be a straight shot on the busy highway. Bringing up the navigation app, I’m informed it will be a solid two hours to get to the lawyer’s office in Temple.

I’m not surprised when I arrive to find the asshole is late. Despite prying by the lawyer, I kept my story simple and repeated it often—I’m a doctor in a free clinic where I met Amy. I want to marry Amy and adopt Layla.

Enough of a reason for me to be here with some money, but hopefully, the free clinic part won’t have the asshole thinking I can easily come up with more money. I don’t want him thinking—he’s shown he’s not one to do it very often, and I need him to keep it that way.

When I called to set up the appointment with the lawyer, I didn’t give him my name. All I said was that I was a friend of Amy’s who wanted to get the signed divorce petition. Since Amy was afraid of him, I was acting on her behalf.

Matteo Castillo isn’t exactly a unique name in Texas—probably even Dallas. But if they connected it to a doctor and Dallas, the asshole would know I have money and keep pumping me for every dime he thought he could squeeze out of getting him to sign.

The lawyer reviews the paperwork I brought for Richards to sign. It’s a copy of everything he was served with two weeks ago because I didn’t trust him to have it all. The divorce papers, the NDA, and the paperwork for Layla. In Texas, a parent has to sign an affidavit of voluntary relinquishment of parental rights that the judge needs to approve. The judge in my pocket is ready to sign off on everything once I get it to her. She also confirmed waiving the thirty-day wait period there is supposed to be after the divorce is finalized.

His lawyer might think something is off about my story, but Daniel Richards is greedy and broke. He’ll accept the story without digging any deeper.

It's almost a half hour before the asshole finally arrives. He’s shaking off his lawyer’s admonishment. The sight of the man has me fighting back the urge to vomit. The fucker never deserved Amy and Layla.

Swallowing bile, I force the words out. “Amy doesn’t know I’m here. I just want this to be over so we can be married. I’ll adopt Layla. You don’t have to pay child support or anything.”

He eyes me. “Who are you?”

I shrug. “I’m a doctor. I met her when she was sick. She and Layla are fine—if you care to know.”

His laugh is bitter. “I don’t care about either of them. You warn her if she tries to come after me for child support, then I’m going to go for full custody of the kid. I’ll get it, too.” He points at his lawyer. “He’s got the paperwork waiting to go.”

“I said we don’t want child support. Sign away your rights. That’s what I’m here for—your signature.” I point at the paperwork.

Black eyes narrow on me, he’s studying what I’m wearing. I have no doubt he thinks he knows how much the clothes I’m in cost—he’d be wrong. “What will you give me for signing all this?”

The man is not surprising in the least. “I have a thirty-thousand-dollar cashier's check for you after you sign everything.”

---