Edge's POV
“That's the third shirt.”
I looked at Vina through the mirror.
“No, it isn't.”
“Yes, it is.”
I glanced down at my black T-shirt.
“First one didn't fit right.”
“They all fit the same.”
“No, they don't.”
“They're all black.”
I slowly looked at my wife.
“We've been over this, Sweetheart. They're different shirts.”
Her mouth twitched.
“What?”
“Mateo said you don't need to be nervous.”
My head snapped toward her.
“What?”
She laughed.
“Cloe told me.”
“Of course she f*****g did.”
“I ain't nervous about meeting a kid.”
“He wasn't nine when he said it.”
“He is today.”
Her smile softened.
“You remembered.”
“Princess told me.”
Today was Mateo's ninth birthday.
Domingo had agreed to allow Vina and me into his family home because Ava asked him.
No cut. No club bus
