Page 30 of Let Vengeance Be Mine

“That's shit. Aria spoke to her dad a few days ago. He still thinks she'sfindingherself,” I assure him, not even bothering to open the file.

“Clearly fuckin’ not, Matteo. It’s all there, in black and white. You know what a clever man Fucchini is, did you honestly expect him to believe her story?”

“You forget who you are talking to.” I square up to him, his new information has put a bitter taste in my mouth. His attitude, and how he’s delivering it, is making me want to throttle him.

“I don’t knowwhoI’m talking to anymore, Matteo. You're detached, nothing matters to you but that damn girl. Did you know we had a whole shipment disappear last week? 150k worth of cocaine just vanished. And do you know who dealt with that? Me.

And all while you were upstairs flicking through the bigfuckingbook of baby names, deciding what to name your son. A son who will have nothing to inherit, if his father doesn’t wake up and start living in the real fucking world.”

I act on instinct, balling up my fist and throwing it at his face.

I love Demitri like a brother but I will not tolerate his disrespect.

He takes my punch well, using his thumb to wipe away the blood that drips from his lip.

“What happened to the shipment?” I ask, once I’ve found my calm, again.

“Some biker gang, who Phillippe thought he could trust, double-crossed him.”

“And where is it now?” I catch my breath while I wait for his answer.

“Back where it belongs,” he answers me, sharply.

“And the bikers?”

“Dealt with, I had their clubhouse burned down and each one of them killed,” he informs me.

“Thank you,” I speak humbly when I realize he’s right. I have been off the ball, lately. It must have been a lot of pressure for him.

“I get you’re stressed, Matteo. I’m your best friend. I’m here for you and that's never going to change. But you should take a look at that file. If you want to keep that girl and the baby she’s carrying, you need a fucking plan.” He leaves me to it. Walking out the room and slowly closing the door behind him.

ARIA

ONE MONTH LATER

“Your son grows strong.” Matteo’s housekeeper, Anita, smiles at me as she places the sandwich, she’s made me, on the coffee table. She’s never really spoken to me before, so it comes as a surprise, it's an even bigger shock when she takes a seat beside me and places her palm, flat beside where mine rests on my stomach.

“Do you feel him wriggle yet, Miss Aria?” She smiles.

“No, the books said it could be any time now, but I don’t feel him yet.” I’m starting to get a little anxious about it. This past month my stomach has gotten much bigger, there is no hiding the fact I’m pregnant, now. We had an appointment with Doctor Fabier last week and heard his heartbeat again, and now I’m desperate to feel him move.

“Soon enough.” She taps my bump, lightly, before she gets back up and heads into the kitchen. I look at the sandwich she’s left behind and sigh when I think about eating it. Despite what Fabier, and the books, have said my nausea still hasn’t passed, and I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever enjoy a meal again.

“Staring at it isn’t going to make it disappear.” Demitri laughs at me as he comes in from the patio. “You know Matteo is going to make you eat it?”

“Not if you eat it for me.” I look up at him and smile.

“Oh, no.” He shakes his head and laughs. “It would be more than my life is worth.”

“Oh, come on, he won’t even know.” I drop my voice to a whisper.

“You know Anita makes the best sandwiches. Look at all that pastrami.” I flit my eyes over toward the stuffed-full sandwich and bite my lip. You’d never know, from how appealing I’m making it sound, that it’s making my stomach roll in disgust.

“I’ll take one half.” He points his finger at me, checking the coast is clear before he rushes at the plate and picks one up. Somehow, he manages to get almost a quarter of the thing in his mouth in one bite, and when Matteo walks through the door and catches him, he pauses mid-chomp.

“Hungry, Demitri?” Matteo raises his eyebrow.

“I…um…” Demitri struggles to get his words out around the mouthful of food he’s got crammed in, so I speak for him.

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