Page 42 of Bratva Hunter

“It’s Isabella. I want to meet her.”

“No. She hates me. Let us just get together on Sunday like we planned. You’ll get to meet both of the new women of the family in one night.”

A baby fusses in the background. “How is my nephew?”

“Hungry. Cynric said she’s pregnant.”

“Yeah. She needs an appointment with an OB. Got any pull to get us in tomorrow?”

“I’ll make a call and let you know what time. Make sure she has a dress, flowers, and a friend.”

“A friend?”

“Yes. Fingers said her friend from Phoenix is in New York. Bring her to the wedding. If we can’t come, at least give her someone she cares about.”

“I’ll text him.”

“Good boy. Be easy, Roric, or I’ll help your girl poison you.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?”

“Yep. Mothers have to stick together.” She hangs up, and my ears detect the sounds of a shower. Food. Order food.

Twenty minutes later, she strolls out in a velour pantsuit. I double take because she looks like a supermodel in high end clothing.

ROSA

“I’m hungry.”

“I got all your favorites.” He swings his hand across a large wood dining table. “I’ll serve you.”

I’ve rolled my eyes so much today, they feel tired. Hell, I’m exhausted. “Got milk?”

“Wasn’t that an ad for dairy products?”

“Seriously. Talk less.”

He nods as he walks to the gourmet kitchen. It’s my first chance to take in the opulence of the apartment. He has a navy-blue leather sectional with the biggest television I’ve ever seen overlooking the room. He closes the refrigerator as I turn tocatch his eyes. “Why do you have such an incredible kitchen? Got a maid?”

“No. I have a cleaning service. I like to cook when I have a chance.”

Snorting in disbelief, I sit down at the table. He’s set out two plates and serving spoons. The aroma of the Italian food is scrumptious. Lasagna, manicotti, chicken Parmesan, and Italian wedding soup catch my eye.

Roric hands me a bowl. “I saw you looking at the soup. Here’s a ladle.”

The fragrant broth sloshes into the deep navy bowl. His dishes match the sofa. Ah. He had a designer. The first bite of lasagna explodes on my tongue. “Thanks.” His beaming smile pings my heart. “Is there somewhere I can eat that I don’t have to see you?”

Shock pops on his face. “Watch it baby. You can be pissed at me but nastiness doesn’t suit you.”

It’s not worth wasting my energy arguing with the man. He won’t be the first man I’ve ignored.

My eyes are puffy and my face is red. Crying instead of sleeping is a poor way to take care of myself. It’s eight in the morning and the gleaming luxury shower beckons me.

“Rosa?” Roric taps on the door a second time as he calls my name.

I get back into bed, rolling over to take the covers. Just ignore him. I locked the door.

The door opens as I turn to pull the covers to my chin. “What the fuck? Get out.”

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