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Mariella's POV

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Mariella's POV

I was starting to get restless, standing at the front of the school for over 30 minutes with the kids. Mateo said he'd be here, but I'm starting to think he's just flunking out for whatever reason. Saying to wait, that he'd be right here, and then just not. I don't even know why I'm doing what he says, I have no reason to trust him. Maybe it's just the tone in his voice, the way it was warning me not to do anything else.

And of course, he'd managed to make me scared to even go back home right now. I mean, who just says those things to someone? With that premonition in mind, I start to wonder if that danger he was talking about was more than just a simple avoidable thing. I'd never liked Mateo's job before, it gave me a headache quite frankly. I hated to know that he was in danger every day, that he was putting me in danger.

The Mafia was a big deal. Whenever I brought up the future with Mateo, he would avoid the topic because he didn't know what the outcome of one of his night jobs would be. Told me, "I don't want to hurt you, baby, I don't want to promise you a future of growing old with kids because you don't know just how easily that promise could be broken." At the time, I was terrified here was just going to leave me because if my constant worrying, but he didn't. Well, not till a year later when he left me pregnant and alone.

I knew that someday he'd have to move up and be the Don, as his father was getting older and had it set in stone for him to become the new 'king of the dark world'. His father was nice enough. He didn't take too much interest in me but was always polite, as I was his beloved son's first real relationship. It was nice to see how they get along, however, considering that a lot of times death breaks people apart. In their case, after Mateo's mother died, they got closer.

Hearing Mateo always talk about the little things he remembers about her brought tears to my heart. That's one thing that had me so broken after he left, my babies never got to see him or have any memories of him at all.

Whenever I finally got him to talk about the future with me, usually when he was drunk out of his mind; he would talk about wanting twins. About how he never wanted his babies to grow lonely, as they'd always have someone looking out for them. Mateo didn't have siblings.

The revving of motorcycles grow closer and closer, and I become more alert. I'm not sure if they're Mateo's, or someone else's. I silently say a prayer that it is Mateo's, although a sliver of doubt sticks in my mind.

As soon as I see a bunch of flashes of red come into view, I thank my lucky stars. There's no doubt going to be some type of trouble, considering the way Mateo was speaking on the phone earlier, but luckily I can avoid at least some. Even though we aren't close anymore, no longer best friends but strangers rather, I was so going to chew his ass out for being late. I mean, who does that? Calling to tell someone they're in danger and then putting them in more by being 40 minutes late.

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