Page 24 of Awakening the Beast
When Arlo crosses the room, he lowers Cree, who immediately runs toward me. He climbs onto the couch beside me and snuggles into my side, and I wrap my arm around his back, pulling him close.
“Did you get a good night's sleep?” I ask softly, brushing his hair away from his face.
He nods, his little head bobbing up and down. I glance down at Carmella, who is knelt down in front of Lumi. She studies our baby with a look of curiosity, and then she looks up at Arlo, a question in her eyes.
“May I?” she asks.
Arlo meets my gaze for a brief moment before returning his attention to Carmella, giving her a nod of approval. I watch as she carefully unclips Lumi from her seat and cradles her in her arms.
“Oh, you’re so tiny and beautiful,” Carmella murmurs, her tone softening as she bounces Lumi gently.
I observe her with unease. My relationship with Carmella has always been a bit strange. She comes across as detached and standoffish, her constant resting bitch face rarely giving away any emotions. Her demeanor seems to be shaped by her history—dealing with Arlo’s father and raising Arlo during the chaos of New York’s underworld.
It’s clear that her past has left its mark on her, but there’s something between us that I can’t quite put my finger on. During when Arlo was gone, our conversations were almost aboutbusiness only, with little to no personal chitchat, even when it came down to Arlo dying, there wasn’t a word said. I sensed a wariness from her about me taking on Arlo’s assets and the business. It almost felt like she was resentful.
She continues to admire Lumi, but the silence between us feels heavy, and I can’t help but wonder what truly lies behind her icy exterior. I suppose she must’ve seen me as a stranger since I didn’t really get to know her until Arlo ‘died.’ I’m also unsettled by the fact that she never mentioned finding Arlo in Brazil, though I’m relieved she brought him back. I guess I’m just still feeling confused, and I know we need to clear the air when the time is right.
“Carmella, you should stay for a while. My parents are coming over, and I’d love for you to meet them.” I say, pushing my thoughts aside for Arlo and Cree’s sakes.
She pauses, her gaze fixating on Arlo rather than me and he searches her eyes for a moment before she finally responds.
“Sure, why not?”
I lift a brow, feeling an odd sensation settle inside me. We continue to sit in peace—Cree and Arlo catch up, and Carmella fusses over Lumi until she starts to cry.
“She probably needs a feed and then a changed diaper,” I say.
Carmella stands from the couch and hands Lumi back to me. I cradle her on my chest and when I begin to feed her, Carmella’s eyes narrow slightly.
“Oh, you’re breastfeeding?”
I look up at her and give her a silent nod, expressionless.
“That’s very time-consuming; I take it you will be out of business for a while?” she comments, her tone flat.
With a steady gaze, I glance down at Lumi. “I’ll be here for her for as long as she needs me.”
I look up at Carmella again with a raised eyebrow in defiance. “But it won’t be forever; there’s such a thing as a pump and a nanny.”
Carmella mimics my brow lift in response, her expression unreadable, but I notice Arlo glancing between us, clearly sensing the tension between the women in the room.
Suddenly, the doorbell rings and I know it’s my parents; they’re the only ones expected around this time. When I look at Arlo, his jaw tightens before he turns to head toward the door.
I hesitatingly walk toward the front door, my hands clenched into tight fists at my sides. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself before I open it. Phillip’s face immediately comes into view, his smile wide and overly keen.
“Arlo, it’s good to see you back!” he exclaims, extending his hand toward me.
I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to lash out, but my mind races with thoughts of Wren and the need to keep things civil for her sake. I reluctantly accept his hand, giving it an excessively firm squeeze and he returns it with a somewhat condescending grin.
When we release hands, my gaze shifts to Hazel, who offers me a soft smile.
“It’s really good to see you, Arlo. Congratulations,” she says sincerely.
I nod in response, unsure of how much she knows about Phillip’s work in the underworld, but if Wren was aware of my line of work, then surely Hazel would know about Phillip’s too.
I step aside, gesturing for them to enter. “Just through there,” I say, motioning toward the living room.
As they walk past me, my discomfort grows but I’m very aware that I need to keep up my façade while my anger simmers beneath the fucking surface. The real test is yet to come—my mother is here, and I’m interested in seeing how Ghost will handle the situation.
