Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

M atteo

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."

I offer it to him. He snatches it out of my hand. Showing it to his lawyer. "It legal?"

"It's valid. And if it's what you want, yeah." The lawyer shrugs. "Just know if you say anything about Amy, Layla, or even signing the NDA, then it automatically gives him cash and?—

"I don't give a fuck. I'm not ever talking about that fat bitch or that kid that's probably going to grow up and be as ugly and fat as she is. Anyone ever asks—I don't know shit about either of ‘em."

A secretary is called in as a notary to witness everything.

The lawyer also signs off as a witness. It takes maybe five minutes for everything to be signed. I finally exhale once it's all done.

"Thank you," I mutter as I stand.

"No, man. Thank you. I thought I was going to be stuck with that brat and her fat ass. My parents weren't going to bail me out of it with her."

I'm a doctor, not a violent man by any means. But I am when I look at him. I don't dare do or say anything to betray the way I really feel. He signed. That's all that matters to me.

Before I get back on the road, I see the time and swear. It will be late before I get home. I text Amy and tell her that I got caught up with a patient in an emergency. Now that it's resolved, I'm staying a little later to finish up paperwork.

Amy

I'm beginning to wonder if something is wrong. Matteo said he'd be late, but I didn't think it would be this late—it's almost six thirty. I should be getting Layla ready for bed.

I startle at the doorbell going off. Layla jumps higher in her little activity center and squeals. She probably thinks it's Matteo.

Opening the door, I find Riley and Elliott.

"Hey, can we talk to Matteo?" Elliott asks with pleading.

"I'm sorry. He's still at work. You can come in and wait if you want." I step back to give them room.

"But he wasn't at work when we went there—" Elliott hits Riley, cutting him off.

"What do you mean he wasn't there?" I can't believe what they're saying.

The elevator opens to Matteo. His eyes meet mine. "What's the matter?"

"Um, we can go." Elliott offers.

Matteo shakes his head. "Come in." He looks to me. "What's the matter?"

"They said they went to see you at the clinic, and you weren't there. Where were you?"

An eyebrow goes up at my question.

Riley moves toward the door. "We're gonna go?—"

"No, don't." I can't forget the pleading in Elliott's eyes. "We'll discuss it later."

"We don't want to start a fight." Riley sighs.

"It's fine." I insist. "We'll talk about it later. This is important to you. I can leave if you want me to."

Layla starts yelling, "Dada. Dada. Up Dada."

Matteo makes it to her in three steps. "I'm sorry, baby girl."

She buries her face in his neck and clutches him tight as he sits down in the overstuffed chair with her.

Both teens sigh as they sit on the couch. "It's not that. You can stay, but I just needed to hear what you thought…" Elliott runs a hand through his hair. "Riley thinks you'll know what to do."

I sit in the other chair. Matteo's eyes narrow on me before returning them to the twins.

"I don't want to go to Yale. I'm not sure how to tell Rafe. I get it's an honor he and Abuelo see us as Castillo even though we're…but I don't want to go into the family business. I want to have my own restaurant. Riley wants to focus on pottery and woodworking."

"Like, what will Rafe feel? Not what he'll say. I know he'll say it's okay. But what will he feel about it—about us?" Riley winces as he asks the question.

Matteo considers the question before he shrugs. "He'll say and mean that you two need to do whatever makes you happy. If going into the family business is going to be miserable for you, then don't do it. It's important to him that you do what will make you happy. Rafe mentioned he told you both already he and your sister will pay for your schooling, but they won't pay for much beyond that. If you're lucky, Gigi will loan you money to start your restaurant. He will want to ensure you two have thought of that. However, if you go into the family business, you're going to get an extremely large salary. Something to consider."

"They wouldn't help more?" It doesn't seem fair to me. "I mean, your mom helped you."

"Yes, it's why I said Gigi would loan them money. Hell, she might even just give it to them. My mom is much more permissive and grew up with old money, so won't see it as a bad thing. I'm not saying Rafe and Carrie think it's a bad thing, but they would want them to work hard. Everyone is of the mindset that just handing money over isn't the way to raise the kids. We're doing the best we can while preparing them for the real world." Matteo's eyes meet mine.

I agree with him. The last thing I want is to raise spoiled kids who take their lucky lives for granted.

"I don't care. I'll do whatever I need to do to open my own restaurant one day. Spending four years at some Ivy League isn't necessary." Elliott's lower lip juts out.

"You say that now, but who do you want coming to your restaurant? The Ivy League universities aren't about the school pedigree alone. It's about the connections you make and build. Deep pockets have an easier time spending money. Those are the clients you want, people with money to spend on an evening out and who want to be seen—want to impress others that they can afford it." Matteo's eyebrow is up as he looks at Riley. "What mijo ?"

"I'm not willing to do whatever it takes to become an artist. I love the freedom to create whatever I want in pottery and woodworking—making things with my hands—but I like our current life. If I can keep the same lifestyle by continuing a legacy I want to be a part of, then I'll do it. There were too many nights of wondering if we were going to go into foster care because Carrie couldn't keep us for me to go back to being poor." Riley shrugs self-consciously.

"There's nothing wrong with admitting that," I assure him. "Maybe someday something else that means more will come along, and if it never does, that's okay too."

Seeing the change in Riley, I'm glad he at least found the assurance he needed.

"I'm relieved and a jerk enough to admit it. I was feeling guilty both of us weren't going into the Castillo company when Rafe clearly needs help." Elliott admits.

Riley sighs. "I was worried you would think I was selling out because I'm not willing to give up money for art. It's like I can take it, or I can leave it. I'm also thinking Matteo is right. You should still go to Yale. Make connections and take time to learn all you can for the business side."

He considers his twin's urging. "Maybe. If Rafe is okay with me going and not planning to continue with the Castillo company. I'd feel like I was stealing any other way."

"I think it's more than fair. I also think Rafe will surprise you. What makes you happy is the most important thing to him." Matteo is firm.

Both teens sigh in relief.

Matteo

The moment the door is closed behind the twins, the words fly out of Amy, "Where were you?"

This woman is not afraid of me. She's not going to let me get away with anything. Good. Smiling, I pull her to me. Her hands go up to my chest to keep me from squeezing her tightly. Layla clutches at my neck as though she were trying to climb up me.

"I met with your soon-to-be-ex. He signed off on the divorce, his parental rights for Layla, and the NDA. It only cost thirty thousand. Tomorrow my lawyer will be sending evidence to the insurance company paying workers comp. He'll be out that money within a month. I have a judge who will put everything through by Friday. It was supposed to be a part of your birthday present."

Her beautiful face falls. "I can't believe you didn't tell me."

"I didn't want you stressed. There was no need for it. He didn't do or say a single thing that surprised me. I always knew I would come away with his signature, and it was the only thing that mattered. If I told you, you would have asked to be there, and that wasn't going to happen." I'm not going to apologize.

Rolling her eyes, she sighs. "You are such a jerk. I'm annoyed with you being so bossy."

"No, you aren't. You love how bossy and in control I am. I'll always keep you and Layla safe. Since you trust in me, you're simply annoyed you didn't know ahead of time."

She rolls her eyes again. "You really are annoying being such a know-it-all. Fine. I love it, and I would have spent every minute you were gone concerned. There, are you happy now?"

"I am. Very fucking happy. He signed. Tomorrow, you're going wedding dress shopping with Mom, and I leave work a few hours early for the person to meet with us to help us plan the wedding. I'm taking Wednesday off completely and after your therapy appointment at two, we go to Chicago. No work, no phone calls—just you and Layla. How soon before we can confirm you're pregnant?"

Melting into me, she sighs. "We started at the perfect time. We'll know very soon."

My cock hardens until it feels like steel at the idea of her pregnant. "After we come back you and Mom are going house shopping on Monday. I want us settled before the baby comes."

"You want us to move?" Her eyes are wide.

"Yes, I want you to have your own home so you can make it everything you want. Any house you want, however you want it to look, you're getting it." I promise her.

Chocolate is melting up at me. "How very presumptuous of you. There's that proposal you're supposed to be working on."

"Not presumptuous. I know you crave me like I'm your air, the same way I do for you. Marriage, forever without any escape, is all I want, too. Let's get Layla to bed, so we can have our own little celebration of him signing the papers. And make sure we're doing all we can to ensure you're pregnant."