Lucian (Filthy Marcellos #1)(24)

"I don't think you understand, sweetheart. Bringing you here, being seen with me and my family, this is as good as going public in our world. Now, they have expectations. And I'm fine with it."

Jordyn didn't like the sound of that. "What if I'm not?"

"Does it bother you?" he asked.

"I didn't say that. It's just a lot to take in at nine in the morning, Lucian."

"Did you not hear what I told you in bed?"

"Yes, I heard you. I told you what I wanted, too."

As perplexing and reckless as those odd feelings were.

"Good. You're just fine for me, Jordyn, and that's what I care about. None of the rest matters."

"But-"

"One day at a time," Lucian interjected softly.

"Then why does it feel like we just hit fast forward?"



• • •



"You've told her about us," Antony said, circling the rim of his whiskey glass with his finger.

It wasn't even a question. Lucian's father simply made the declaration and then grew silent, letting his son absorb the words. Sitting beside his father on the porch of the large Tuxedo Park home, overlooking the back yard, Lucian tried not to let his anger show with Antony.

He failed.

"I have," Lucian admitted. "Not the major details, or all that we do, but the important parts, she knows."

"She's an outsider, not family. You know how important loyalty and confidentiality is to us. If you were any other man, and not my son, I would be expected to kill you for doing that."

Lucian frowned, knowing he'd disappointed his father by exposing their secrets. "She's important to me. I can't explain it, but she is. I have to follow it through, Papà. You have to trust me, take a step back here, and let me do this how I see fit."

"She would have to be important," Antony muttered. "Otherwise, I'd be seriously concerned over your lack of judgment. I have never been as confused by you in all your years as I have been these past weeks. Hiding things from me. Neglecting your responsibilities. Making dangerous decisions. You haven't stepped foot in this house in over two weeks. Had you not needed your mother's help collecting things that girl needed, you wouldn't have called her once. It was like you dropped off the radar. This is not the respectful, smart boy I raised. Where did he go, Lucian?"

"Don't patronize me. You came that first night, so you saw what he did to her. You can't blame me for pushing other things to the side so I could deal with the things she needed first."

"She does seem as if she's doing a great deal better," Antony said quietly. "Although I'm sure you've seen a lot more of her than I have."

Lucian refused to answer that unspoken question.

"What are you going to do, now?" his father asked.

"What I have been doing. Keeping her close, and safe. With me, of course."

Because there was no way in hell Lucian could imagine him handling someone else watching over Jordyn and protecting her.

"I imagine you think you can do it best, too." Antony sighed. "This will not be as easy as you think."



       
         
       
        

"I never thought it would be, actually. I do need your permission to do what I have to if needed."

Fact was, because Antony was the Marcello boss and technically had control over Brooklyn, his men couldn't be involved in handling issues unless he gave his permission for them to do so. It was even stickier if the issues involved other made men, but this didn't.

"They're going to be looking for her, if they haven't already. Jordyn mentioned Will demanded she be back to work after a week. That time is long passed, now."

"I want you to be careful," Antony said.

"He labelled her Club Property. I think the time for careful has passed. If he gets his hands on her, I won't see her again. I can't risk that. I need to handle it."

"What about your apartment in Manhattan? I can't see MC members spending a great deal of their time in those streets. She'd be safer there, say if you needed to handle something alone. Which you often do and I need you to keep up with your normal business," Antony said pointedly. "You have higher security there. If you're insistent on keeping her with you, that's where you both should be, not in Brooklyn. You're too close to them."

Lucian was aware of that. "She was too hurt to be traveling those first few days. Besides, Manhattan wouldn't just be a step out for them, but her, too. I don't want her to be uncomfortable with my status and money."

"Give her some credit. She didn't even flinch at the size of this home. She adapts incredibly well to her situation, whatever it is."

"You were watching when we came through the gate?" Lucian asked, surprised.

Antony laughed deeply. "First woman any of my sons willingly bring home? Of course I was, Lucian."

"Yet you couldn't greet me at the church?" Lucian asked.

"I was dealing with Gio."

"Why lie? You didn't want to be seen greeting me with a woman at my side publically. You haven't even introduced yourself to her. That's what it was, Dad."

"No, I was dealing with Gio," his father repeated strongly. "He made a comment-called the girl your principessa. And she very well might be, Lucian, but I can't have others hearing that right now and spreading it through the Marcello family. I don't want people assuming my sons' personal lives are going to overtake their business lives. It's dangerous, especially if other Mafiosi believe you're closer to settling down in life than Dante is. Eyes will turn to you, son. They'll be watching you, wanting to know if you're going to make a move on your brother, or worse, me."

"I don't care. Let them. I don't want to be a boss. I'm happy doing what I do, now." 

"I can't, Lucian. You don't have to be battling with your brother privately or publically for others to say you are. This is how problems start. Little issues turn to big wars. It isn't just our Cosa Nostra we have to consider. I have done everything I could for years to keep our family under only our control. That is what is most important. Keeping our family as ours."

"I understand, but she has nothing to do with any of that. Jordyn is just  … " Words failed Lucian again.

"She's what, someone you need to protect? Is that why you've attached yourself to her, because you feel you owe karma something for how it turned out for you and this is your way of paying it back?"

"No. That's not it," Lucian replied. "Nothing like that."

"Explain it to me, then, because I am at a loss, son."

"I told you, she's important. I'm going to let it go wherever it goes. I think I'd find a lot of regret in not doing that for myself. I don't live with regrets, so I'm not going to start having them with someone like her."

"And you're hoping it ends with you and her going together, sì?"

Lucian shrugged. "I won't put explanations and feelings on things I don't understand."

"Can I trust her?" Antony asked, barely above a breath. "With our family, the Cosa Nostra, and my son, too?"

"I do," Lucian replied.

"Dio. That's good enough for me, then. I still have to properly meet her, though."



• • •



Cecelia took the wooden spoon covered in a thick, red sauce, tasting it with the new ingredients. She gave the younger woman a nod in approval before turning to wash off the spoon.

"I'm impressed," Cecelia said. "I wouldn't have thought of those."

Jordyn shrugged, continuing to stir in the mix of spices she'd chosen for the special pasta sauce Cecelia refused to give the secret ingredients for. "It's like a go-to. If it's really good from the start, these make it great. At least, that's what I always found."

"I've followed the exact recipe for years. I've never deviated from it."

Briefly, Jordyn wondered if she overstepped her limits. A kitchen was a woman's kingdom, especially an Italian woman's kitchen. Cecelia obviously took great pride in her cooking and the massive meals she prepared for her family.

"I'm going to have to change the recipe now," Cecelia added, grinning. "I don't know how Antony's grandmother would have felt about that, bless her soul, but oh well."

Jordyn smiled. "Thanks. Does that mean I get the rest of the ingredient list?"

"Sorry, but no. Tradition is what it is, dear. Someday, I might be able to hand it over, but not today."

"Someday?"

What did that mean?

Cecelia winked. "Another time. You enjoy cooking, don't you?"

"Kind of had to learn if I wanted something edible to eat," Jordyn replied, carefully choosing her words. Getting into a discussion about how her own mother was too high half of the time to cook, never mind remembering to buy food every week, was not something she looked forward to. "When I got older, it became a hobby to make different things I hadn't before, and try new stuff in old recipes. I like seeing other people enjoy my food."

"Cooking is therapeutic," Cecelia agreed. "Lord knows when my boys became a certain age and they were following their father around for  …  business things  …  I was in this kitchen whipping away my worry more times than I can even remember. Not to mention the normal teenage things they put me through. Raising three boys with a crime boss father, my dear, is a frightening, fun filled ride. It's a wonder they aren't fat, honestly. Antony, too."