In his own defense, Adrian points out, “Hey, I’m not a blood Morelli.”
“No, you’re the Chicago Sin, bending the world to suit the needs and desires of the spoiled asshole you work for.”
Mia’s eyebrows rise and she slows down to fall in step beside me. “There’s a Vegas Adrian?”
“Sin is not the Vegas Adrian,” Adrian tells Mia. “I’m higher up than he is. Sin is still just Rafe’s enforcer, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” I murmur, glumly.
“Is he dreamy?” Alec jokes.
“Yes,” I murmur, just as glumly.
Mia’s smile falls. “Uh oh.”
“He’s also the devil,” I inform her. “A manipulative, heart-breaking monster.”
“Uh oh,” Alec echoes. “That sounds way too familiar. You know all about those, right, Mia?”
Mia shoots him a dirty look. “My husband is perfect; shut up.”
Smirking faintly, Adrian says, “With that description, he is definitely not the Vegas Adrian.”
Alec concurs, “Vegas Mateo.”
“No,” Mia says, more adamantly than I would expect, given she has no stake in any of this. “Don’t say that. I want to be on Rafe’s side; there can’t be a Vegas Mateo.”
If they knew him, they would understand. Sin isn’t a version of anyone but himself. He’s one-of-a-kind, irreplaceable. I’ll never meet another Sin as long as I live.
Depressed by this new line of thought, I let them drag me back to their Escalade, fully aware that resistance is futile.
When I first encountered Alec Morelli, I had no idea who he was. Hell, I had no idea about the Morelli family, period. The edgiest thing I had ever done was try pot at a party one time; I knew next to nothing about Chicago’s criminal underworld.
Then one day a handsome man swept into my life. It seemed serendipitous, a meet-cute from a more innocent time when I didn’t know how much of the Morelli experience was just a performance. I met a hot guy at a coffee shop, we seemed to hit it off, and he asked me out to dinner. Day made. Then things got shady. I didn’t realize how shady at the time, when he suddenly cut our date short midway through dinner and hustled me out to his red sports car after getting a mysterious phone call. At most, I may have figured Alec for a fuckboy and dismissed the whole experience as a date gone mysteriously wrong, but then Easter happened.
Mateo Morelli, Chicago’s leading king of crime, invited me to Easter dinner. That would have been really weird, except my sister was dating his cousin, Vince, and they were coming to town for the holiday. I thought it was nice. A big Italian family extending an invite to come celebrate with them so I wasn’t left out. Nothing is ever simple with these people, though. I came for dinner so I could spend the holiday with Carly and Vince, saw Alec Morelli enter the dining room, and got shushed by my sister. Wordlessly, she begged me not to say anything. I figured I would go to her room later and find out why the hell red car guy was at the table—that couldn’t be a coincidence, right?—and more importantly, why she needed me to keep quiet about recognizing him, but then the main event rolled in.
Rafe Morelli, then the Vegas up-and-comer, now their very own crime king—and, you know, the man who impregnated me that very weekend. Once he got there and turned his captivating attention on me, I struggled to remember my own name. Forget trying to unravel their secrets, I was more interested in getting tangled up in the sheets with the sexiest man who had ever noticed me. Seducing me was only supposed to be a game to him, a favor to Mateo, a way to piss off my sister for whatever reason, but the game changed when the condom failed, and now look where we all are.
Once I’m in their car, I know I’m not going anywhere unless they want me to. They take me back to their giant, beautiful house. Honestly, house seems a misnomer; this place is a palace. I was blown away by it when I first saw it, but now I harbor too much resentment to allow myself to be impressed.
Alec disappears once I’m safely imprisoned in their house. Adrian sticks around, but now that I’m under their roof, he doesn’t even seem as worried about keeping an eye on me. Instead, he takes the shopping bag from Mia and draws out a box. Then the scary-looking Mafioso begins carefully removing the doll from its packaging and tells Mia he’ll take it to the playroom.
“Come to my room, we’ll get you ready for dinner,” she tells me, once we’re alone.
I look around curiously. “Am I considered a low flight-risk or something?”
“You’re not our prisoner, Laurel,” she assures me.
“So, I can leave?”
“Well, no. At least not until Rafe gets here.” Attempting a cheerful tone, she says, “Don’t think of it as a forced visit. I’m really happy you’re here. As soon as Rafe told me you were pregnant, I told him he should bring you here. Are there any other Morelli women in Vegas to help you learn the way of things?”
Her words remind me of Sin’s sensual prison. If there were women in Vegas, I didn’t even get a chance to meet them. I was swept up in my Sin bubble most of the time. “I’m not sure. I spent most of my time in Vegas cuffed to a bed.”
A burst of surprised laughter escapes her. “Oh. Well, I’m sure you had more fun playing with Rafe anyway. I’m not familiar with the Vegas players.” Placing an earnest hand to her chest, she tells me, “I do know when I first got dragged into this family, I found it extremely helpful when Vince’s sister gave me a little introductory course. You met Cherie, right?”
I nod, recalling the beautiful brunette Vince introduced me and Carly to over Easter. “Yep, briefly.”