Page 98 of The Deal

Angelina asked if she could attend church this morning. I had no issues with that because she seems to lack her daughter’s feisty spirit and will to escape any chance she gets. It makes me wonder if my father broke her somehow over the years. I wasn’t around much back then, so besides the occasional visit, I never really got to witness their dynamic or, if I’m being honest, particularly cared.

She was nobody to me. No woman could ever replacemy mother, so with her gone, I wasn’t interested in the other females that came after her.

Nico: Am I allowed to go and get her? I’ve been sitting here for hours, watching them alternate between hugging, crying and making out like a couple of teenagers. It even turned me off my lunch, and my wife packed my favourite today, so I’m fucking pissed.

I bark out a laugh.

Me: Yes, go get her. Tell her she can visit him again tomorrow.

Nico: Thank fuck. I’ll have to go home and bleach my eyeballs after this. Can someone else bring her tomorrow? Apart from being blind from the bleach, I’m not sure I can stomach another day of this.

I slip my phone into my pocket and call out, “Giovanni.”

There’s no point calling for Chloe—she’s still not speaking to me—but I know wherever my son is, I’ll find her as well. Those two are as thick as thieves. Wherever she goes, her little shadow is always right beside her.

“We are in the kitchen, Dad.”

When I enter the room, I find Chloe cooking on the stovetop. Lina had taken over that role since we got back to Sydney, but since she’s not here …

Giovanni’s little face beams as soon as he sees me, and I’ll never get tired of that look. At least someone is glad to see me. Chloe is giving me her back.

I approach him and ruffle his hair as I lean down to place a chaste kiss on the top of his head. I move in herdirection next. She may not want me to touch her, but that’s not going to stop me from trying.

I’m still forcing her to share my bed at night because I’m an arsehole. It’s the only time I get to spend one-on-one with her. In reality, she continues to ignore me then as well, but the moment she falls asleep, I pull her petite body against mine and pretend we are okay as I drift off into a blissful sleep.

I come to a stop right behind her and feel her body stiffen when I grasp her hip. “What are you making,amore mio.”

She lifts her chin in defiance, and I feel my cock start to swell in my pants.I’m aching for this woman.“I’m cooking something for Giovanni since my mother seems to be MIA. You don’t seem to care about her comings and goings … and please stop calling me that.”

I disregard her comment because I’ll never stop calling her‘my love’.She is the first, and if I get my way, she’ll be the last.

“Your mother has spent the day with your father.”

I hear her audible gasp as she spins to face me. Our mouths are now just inches apart, and the urge to kiss her is so fucking intense, but I manage to keep myself in check. I miss the days when I could freely touch her, kiss her … bury myself balls deep inside her heat.

“You’re lying.”

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I bring up the message thread with Nico. “See for yourself.”

Her eyes flick over the screen, and she gasps again. “They made out?” Her gaze meets mine, and her beautiful caramel eyes are wide with disbelief.

“According to Nico, they did. I don’t see any reason for him to lie.”

“This feels like another betrayal,” she says, pushing the phone towards me.

“Why would you think that?” I ask, genuinely confused.

“He should hate her for what she did.”

I arch an eyebrow. “He should hate her for saving his life? She sacrificed everything she held dear to keep you both safe. Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t it your father who stole from mine and got you both tangled up in this mess in the first place? The way I see it, you and your mother are the ones who paid the price for his sins.”

This is the most she’s spoken to me in days, and the last thing I want to do is stir things up, but she needs to hear this. Her reasoning is all wrong.

I’ve always been careful about how I speak about her father in her presence—she clearly sees him through rose-coloured glasses—but it’s his own poor choices that have caused his family so much pain.

“In my eyes, it should be your mother who hates him. I was there the day my father brought her home. She was a devastated wreck, and honestly, she had every right to be. She loves your father the same way she loves you,bella. She proved that when she made the ultimate sacrifice for you both. You need to cut her some slack.”

I’m unsure what kind of reaction I will get from her, but I brace myself anyway. The last thing I expect is for her eyes to fill with tears. “You’re right,” she whispers.

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