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Mariella's POV

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Mariella's POV

Mateo jiggles with a key-chain that holds many different keys, trying to find the one for the house we stand in front of. I'm not even sure that you can call it a house; it's huge. It has to be at least three stories tall, and it's wide too.

I've seen houses in New York, but they were usually small. This mountainous abode was too much to simply take in.

"Goddammit." Mateo cusses under his breath, narrowing his eyes at the heap of metal pieces in his hands. I ignore his use of swear words, rolling my eyes internally. Angel, however, doesn't hold back from stating his opinion, upfront and honest like his father.

"That's a bad word," he says. I grin at his words and the way Mateo exasperatedly turns to look at him.

"Is it?"

"Mhm," Angel hums in affirmation. He looks smug with himself. With his lips turned up deviously and green eyes shining, he stares expectantly at Mateo who is obviously irritated. I can tell that he's barely holding back from snapping at the poor kid as a result of his impatience and frustration.

"Hey, Angel just let it go. We'll make a jar and he can put a coin in it, yeah?" I reason. He responds with a huff just as the door opens with a gasp of warm air against the chilly outside.

"Finally!" Mateo exclaims, holding the door open and letting both Vivi and Angel walk in before I enter.

Vivienne stops in front of me and admires the open area. Her jaw is dropped open in surprise. She hasn't ever had the chance to see such a structure before. I feel a nudge on my hand and look down to find hers reaching for mine. As I intertwine her small fingers with mine, my eyes catch on the dazzling marble flooring that almost perfectly reflects my befuddled face.

It's shiny and clean, probably mopped to perfection each and every day. Not a speck of dust is in sight and I doubt even extensive investigating would find one. My senses heighten when I hear a voice yelling somewhere. The four of us turn simultaneously to the growing noise.

A man with dark hair and intense, striking blue eyes enters through a corridor that I didn't notice. His hand holds what I'm pretty sure is a phone up to his ear as he argues rather loudly into it. "That stronzo madre is so going to get it," he exclaims. "Tell Lucio to get the shipment to that fucking tru-"

(T: mother fucker)

"Jamal," Mateo commands his attention when he continues to ramble without noticing our presence. Sheepishly, Jamal mutters the rest of his sentence into the phone before hanging up. I figure that the words that he rushed out were a much more condensed version of what he was really going to say. Teo clears his throat, waiting for an explanation from his friend.

"Oh, um, hey man," he glances at me and the kids, eyes widening. "And uh chick and children." Despite his unpleasant words and immediate hostility towards us, his voice flows euphoniously. Not as nice as Mateo's, of course. His clear disdain for us surprises me. How does he hate me and my babies if we're only just meeting now, anyway?

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