Chapter 36
Aiden
The house is quiet in that hollow way it is after a funeral—clean, still, like even the walls are holding their breath out of respect.
I’ve been home for an hour, tie loosened, jacket draped over the arm of the couch, staring at nothing.
I should be exhausted, but instead, I’m wired. Grief buzzes just beneath my skin, mixing with awe—because I watched Mia today. Holding Katya up. Holding herself up.
My wife is a strong woman, and she loves hard.
Katya thanked me after the funeral. “It’s just what Mama would’ve wanted.” She kissed my cheek. “Thank you.”
“Hey, I helped, too,” Cristiano complained in good humor.
“I know. Thank you.” She sniffled. “I…Mia and I couldn’t have done this on our own.”
“Oh, yes, you could have,” I assured her. “You two together can do pretty much anything you want. But you don’t have to do everything.”
The doorbell rings, and I grimace. Mia has a key from when she lived here, but she always uses the bell—claims it’s her way of respecting boundaries, of reminding me this space is mine not hers.
I open the door. “Baby, you—”
Fuck me!
Not Mia.
Diana.
She’s in a Hugo Boss suit. Her lipstick is a touch too red, her eyes calculating. I don’t move to invite her in.
“Go away,” I say, and am about to shut the door when she puts her hand on it.
“Please, Aiden. Just a few minutes.”
I let her in. Not because I owe her anything, but because I’d rather not have this conversation on my front step for the neighbors to chew on. And I am curious.
She stands in the living room, looking around like she’s scanning the place. Probably buying time. I don’t ask her to take a seat. She’s not going to be here long enough.
“Well?” I snap.
“I…need your help.”
I let out a short, humorless laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”
She shakes her head slowly. I see fear in her eyes. I’ve never seen that before.
“It’s only been a couple of months, you can’t have already fucked it up,” I deadpan, because why not?
She looks away, jaw tight like she’s holding it together.
“I thought it would take at least six months, but Mia was sure you’d be up shit creek without a paddle in less than three.” I tilt my head, more entertained than I should be.
“The Farmington deal fell through.” Her lips quiver.
I arch an eyebrow, genuinely surprised that she fucked it up. “All you had to do was get them to sign the damn paperwork, Diana. I did the heavy lifting on that.”
Her eyes darken, her lips press into a tight line.
“And you probably couldn’t bring the Molinari people to the finish line.”
She doesn’t say anything, but her silence speaks volumes.
“Look…I…cleared it with the board to bring you back on as a consultant, and—"
“I’m not interested,” I cut her off flatly.
“Come on, Aiden. The Molinari Foundation…they said they’ll sign if you’re officially working on the deal.”
“Hard pass.”
She blinks. That wasn’t the script she had prepared. “You can’t tell me you’re not itching to get back in the game.”
“I can.” I tilt my head, not even bothering to hide my glee. I wish I could record this because I know Mia would enjoy it very much.
“Aiden, the board—”
“Isn’t my problem anymore,” I interrupt.
She steps closer, lowering her voice, like we’re in some conspiracy together. “Nelson is angry with me. He’s…frustrated. I think he might—”
“Good,” I cut in again, which I know irritates the hell out of her.
She narrows her eyes, but I can see her panic, real and shaking, underneath the veneer. “I need help.”
“That sounds like a you problem.”
Before she can say anything else, I lift my hand to silence her. “See, if we parted as friends, I’d be there for you, but we didn’t. You know why?”
Her face hardens.
“Because you hurt my wife and then you sided with a man who would let his son burn for the sake of optics.” I shake my head in mock disappointment. “And now you’re here begging me for help? Tsk. Tsk. Don’t you have any sense of right or wrong?”
Her eyes fill with tears. I know I hit her where it hurts. She hates that she’s begging me…begging anyone for that matter. Her pride can’t handle it.
“That’s not fair, Aiden.”
“Neither was stealing my job by playing nice with my father. Neither was kissing me in front of my wife.” I drop my hands and stick them in my pockets, because I want to throw something at her. “It’s rich of you to even talk about fairness, don’t you think?”
Before she can respond, the front door opens.
Looks like Mia did finally use her key, I think, when she walks in wind-blown and rosy-cheeked, a paper bag in one arm and her phone in the other. She pauses when she sees Diana.
“What on earth are you doing here?” She comes to stand by me, kisses my cheek. “Brought you those empanadas you love.”
“Mia—” Diana starts, but Mia holds up a hand.
“Nope. Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying. Get lost.”
Diana’s jaw tightens. “I just came to—”
“Don’t care,” Mia interrupts. “You’re wasting time. My time. His time.”
She moves past Diana, into the kitchen, and starts unloading the empanadas onto a baking sheet as if this is the most normal thing in the world. Like a woman in love, safe in her home. Unbothered.
I follow her in, as does Diana.
“Mia, your insecurities are yours to deal with. I’m here for Winter Financial.” Diana sounds more confident than she feels. I know her well enough to know that.
Mia turns, slow and steady, and smiles—the kind of smile that could cut glass.
“Diana, you need to understand something. I have no reason to be insecure. The man is mine. The money is mine. You are a waste of space, and right now you need to get out so my husband and I can enjoy our late afternoon snack after what has been a very difficult day.”
Diana snorts. “Look, you don’t understand what’s happening at Winter Financial—”
“Sure, I do. You’re screwing up.” Mia turns on the oven, and opens the fridge. “Ah, good, you have the Provencal rosé in the fridge. I was thinking we could sit on the porch and—”
“Aiden,” Diana all but shouts, “are you going to help your family’s company or not?”
“Not,” Mia answers for me.
“I’m talking to Aiden,” Diana grits out.
“This is my house. My husband. You’re not welcome here.”
Mia steps forward, her chin high, and extends her hand—an unmistakable gesture pointing to the living room and the front door. “Get out.”
Diana lets out a ragged breath.
“And one more thing?” Mia adds sweetly and charges toward Diana. She takes a step back, away from my wife, who is looking scary in the most adorable way possible. “Next time you think about showing up here uninvited, don’t.”
And then—a moment I’ll never forget—she leans in just a fraction, gets in Diana’s face, and says, low and clear, “Fuck off and never come back.”
Diana stares at her like she’s just been slapped. Her eyes burning with humiliation, she practically bolts.
The front door slams shut behind her.
I stare at Mia, still stunned. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
She grins. “You’re not on it…anymore.” And then she squeals. “That was so fucking satisfying.”
I laugh, my heart full to the brim. “Yes, it was.”