Lucian (Filthy Marcellos #1)(19)

"It's another street term for capo in our business. I prefer it to my real name, really. It keeps a distance between them and me. When they talk about me out there, it's always what the Skip says. It's never Lucian. Most of them don't know who is running them above their boss, honestly. They never meet me, and instead, only hear of the Skip who will and has stepped in to clean house when needed. The unknown breeds fear. Fear breeds obedience. Obedience breeds a good crew. Therefore, I need them afraid."

Huh. That was kind of brilliant.

"It was one of the first things my father taught me about being a good capo," he finished quieter. "Gio is probably the best at it, really, and he's more than earned being known as the Skip with his guys."

"And you like this?" Jordyn asked.

"It's in my blood. What my real father did, and what my family does. A great deal of our money comes from bigger venues and deals, but we keep crews on the streets to remind people of where the power is coming from. Gangs might assume they're running the show, but most of them are buying the majority of their products from families just like mine."

She learned a lot about Lucian Marcello over the last week and a half. If she asked, he would explain to the best of his ability. Honesty was clearly something Lucian kept in high esteem, or maybe it was just for her. Bit by bit, she was learning more about the mafia world of his. It was not the same as the MC, of that, Jordyn was most sure.

His brothers came and went without question. Despite being rowdy, they were always respectful to her. His mother had been there twice, bringing Jordyn loads of clothes, products, and entertainment, most of which still were in the bags with tags and receipts because some of the costs frightened her. 

His adoptive father Antony, on the other hand, Jordyn had yet to meet face to face.

"You didn't really answer me, though. Do you like it?"

Lucian gave a throaty laugh. "I'm not a good person, sweetheart. I like money and I don't particularly care how it is I make it. I don't go out of my way to do good deeds for others. This profession suits me just fine."

"You've been good to me," Jordyn challenged.

"It's not the same."

"Why not?"

Lucian tossed her a look that heated up Jordyn from the inside out. That's all he needed to do, just glance at her. She learned Lucian's eyes spoke a lot more than his mouth did, even when he was talking. Out of the three Marcello boys, it was clear he was the quietest, but likely the most dangerous.

When he watched her, and he did it often, it was unsettling. Under his heavy stare, she thought maybe he was seeing more than he let on. The man had seen her naked, helped dress her injuries day after day, and touched her to soothe her when she fell into a panic over something mundane, but he didn't look at her like he did any of those things, or seen her that way.

Lucian stared at her like he wanted to. It sure as hell felt that way.

Even if his interest in her wasn't so blatantly written in the things he did, Jordyn was positive she would know it was there. Something was, anyway. The closer he was, the stronger it became.

Jordyn wanted this man. That scared her for a multitude of reasons.

It scared her even more that she didn't want to fight it.

"Why not?" Jordyn asked again.

"Because, it's just not, bella."

"I know what that means, Lucian," she told him.

"Good. I can safely assume you're learning, then. That only benefits us both, sweetheart."

Jordyn didn't quite know what to say to that, so she decided to change the subject. "I need a shower."

Lucian cleared his throat, scratching nervously at his neck. "Can you keep the door open?"

"What, why?"

"Because I don't like the thought of having to open it again only to find you unconscious in the bathtub for any reason. At least if the door is open, I can hear you call for me, or whatever. Just  …  please keep it open for my peace of mind."

Well, how in the hell was she supposed to say no to that?



• • •



The Brooklyn apartment Jordyn wasn't allowed to leave had officially been home for thirteen days.

Standing in front of the full length mirror to take note of the progress of her injuries was like a slap in the face. It was harder to do than she thought it would be. Some of the minor bruising had turned to a pale, yellowish shade. The welts that had been particularly bad were still tender to the touch, some a reddish color, and others turning to a darkening discoloration.

The cut on her jaw where a stud in the belt had split the skin was closed over, but not healed. It was still red and sore looking. As were the many lesions on her shoulders and back from the same culprit. She'd taken to sleeping on her side, on her uninjured arm, because it was easier than waking up stiff and tender from laying on the many wounds.

Turning slightly, Jordyn tried to get a better look at the cherry blossoms that were inked over her shoulder and dipped a short way down her back. A bit of the tattoo was permanently damaged from the beating. Where the skin had been brutally split open and bled, the tattoo would need to be fixed. Some spots just needed a simple re-coloration, while others were worse and would demand more work.

Lucian assured that would be the easiest, if she wanted to have it done. However, he'd made it clear the only person who would be inking up her body was someone worthy of doing just that. Apparently it wasn't okay for just anyone to be touching her, especially for the purpose of tattooing. Jordyn wasn't entirely sure what to make of those comments, but she wasn't about to deny she liked the possessive undertone he didn't bother to hide when he spoke about it.



       
         
       
        

Jordyn also noticed that when Lucian did speak about her, him, or them in some context, he nearly always spoke as if it were them together. She wasn't even sure he realized he was doing it. The thought was just as much frightening as it was interesting.

Frankly, she hadn't gained the courage to outright ask Lucian what it was he wanted from her, or expected.

It was a day by day thing. Whatever it was between them.

The one thing Jordyn knew for sure was the fact there was something there.

Like the way he made her so aware of everything, even of things she hadn't considered before. How he watched her; when he didn't speak. The comfort she found in his presence, despite knowing he was a dangerous man. When her heart picked up in his close proximity, or the warmth that seemed to keep on spreading at the most innocent of touches.

Yeah, something all right.

Jordyn wanted to be sure her infatuation with his man wasn't born from a sort of hero complex her mind had created. It wasn't such a stretch to think so, but she also knew their odd connection had started the very moment he pulled back the confessional curtain.

Not that Jordyn minded, but the small apartment didn't afford her much privacy from Lucian when he was awake. Rarely did he sleep, or even nap, for that matter. Even at night, Lucian prowled the apartment. She found he was as fit as he was because a great deal of his morning was spent working out. The laptop he toted around was always turned on, and he enjoyed playing jazz while he worked on whatever it was he worked on.

The man's mind ran on high twenty-four-seven. Lucian never stopped. He was always in perpetual motion in one way or another. How his body and mind kept up with his odd schedule, Jordyn didn't understand. For her, being tired and weak from trying to heal, and her mind overwhelmed with worry and fear from what was yet to come, Lucian exhausted her just by watching him on a daily basis.

So, when he'd drifted off to sleep on the couch after a visit from his youngest brother Gio, Jordyn took the chance to strip down the in bedroom and take a private inventory of what her body looked like a week after her beating behind closed doors.

Hell, that's what it looked like.

Awful. Disgusting.

How anyone could find her beautiful with these marks and bruises was laughable.

Jordyn felt anything but beautiful.

The lace briefs she wore were expensive, pretty and delicate. Certainly not an item you would find in a package of several at a big box store. In fact, she found these particular undergarments inside a long, white box Cecelia Marcello delivered when she brought Jordyn clothes. They came in several colors with matching brassieres. In another box of the same style with the same emblem on the top, she found another set of undergarments, only those were made of silk. The lingerie had been positioned inside the box as if they were on display and wrapped in tissue paper. The Marcello matriarch assured Jordyn she hadn't packaged the pieces that way, but the store they were bought from did. 

Jordyn tried to refuse the obviously expensive lingerie, but arguing was useless. Cecelia made it perfectly clear the cost and what she chose to spend her money on, or who for that matter, wasn't up for discussion. The woman then proceeded to say it didn't make a difference anyway, because it was Lucian's money that had bought these things, not hers, and Jordyn needed them.

It wasn't so much the lace against her skin that drew her attention as it was the bandage the panties half covered on her hip. The burn injury wasn't healing as fast as Jordyn wanted it to, but Paulie assured her that was normal. Wounds of that magnitude took a lot longer and a great deal of attention and care before they even started to look a little bit better. The burn was a good five inches in width and four inches in length. Along with the skin Will seared off, he'd also taken Gabe's name.