Lucian (Filthy Marcellos #1)(25)

       
         
       
        

Jordyn snorted. "I'm sure they didn't mind. Did you always know  …  about Antony, I mean?"

Cecelia cleared her throat, setting the cleaned spoon to the counter. "When you grow up in it, it isn't hard to pick out who is who. Of course, nobody thought then that a young capo like Antony would jump rank like he did. My sister had already been arranged to marry the man they wanted to be the next boss. Our father didn't have sons, you see, and he didn't want just anyone coming after him."

"Lucian's biological father, right?"

"Sì. So, when I married Antony, there were no arguments involved. Everything was already set, business-wise. Kate married for family and business, and I married for love. She can't forget it, and I don't mind a bit that she gets to see the man's son happy, healthy, and rich in many form. If she had her way, Lucian would still be nothing-a no one's child to everyone. Now, he's exactly where he should have been from the start. A Marcello, a mafia prince, doing what he enjoys and what he's good at.

"I always wanted three children," Cecelia continued, smiling sadly. "After Gio's birth left me without my reproductive organs, it wasn't going to be possible. That broke my heart. Lucian coming into our family almost seemed like he was always meant to be here. I got my third child, and Antony was able to have a part of his best friend close that he never dreamed of. Lucian, ever since he stepped into this house, has always been ours. I've never let him feel anything but, and I won't allow others to, either."

"Even Kate?"

"Even my sister."

"Is she really that awful?" Jordyn asked.

Honestly, Jordyn didn't know a whole lot about Kate, or Lucian's biological father. While Lucian was an open book about most things, he kept those things very quiet. Like maybe it hurt him, or made him ashamed to talk about his life before.

"She can be," Cecelia answered. "Lucian holds his own, as she likes to pick at him when others aren't around. I'm sure she'll be her usual self tonight, but it's hard to say."

Jordyn had one more question for Cecelia. "How old was Lucian when his parents died?"

"Six."

Jordyn's mind froze. "But  … "

"But what, dear?"

She was sure Lucian told her he was adopted into the Marcello family when he was eight during their many discussions over the last week.

Where did those two years go?

Jordyn didn't get the chance to ask. The chiming doorbell rang throughout the house.

"Are you okay to keep stirring this for a few minutes?" 

Jordyn looked into the large stainless steel pot that held enough sauce to feed an army. There didn't seem to be anything difficult about keeping the sauce from burning, even if it was a larger portion than she cooked before. "Sure, I guess."

"Good, because after I let the family in, I should go check on my husband. When Antony talks with a whiskey glass in his hand, that's usually a sign he's stressed out. Kate isn't the only one who needs to be on their best behavior tonight."

With that, Cecelia was gone, leaving Jordyn alone to her thoughts once more.





Chapter Twelve





When Cecelia stepped out on the porch and eyed Antony's empty glass of whiskey, Lucian was quick to leave, not wanting to hear a lecture about drinking hard liquor on Sundays again.

It wasn't long before he found Jordyn in the kitchen at the stove. She was stirring a sauce with all her attention focused on the cooking. Jordyn didn't seem like she was overwhelmed by the three different foods she had going, easily slipping from one boiling pot to another without issue. Lucian hadn't known she could cook, and that bothered him. It wasn't her fault, considering he ordered most of their food in over the last week.

Seeing her now, though, cooking in a kitchen fit for a queen like his mother, hit him straight in the gut. A home like this could have very well been hers and no one would have known the difference. Where she'd come from didn't matter, a lot like where he started out.

Adapts well was an understatement, Lucian thought.

Jordyn didn't look a bit out of place and Lucian felt stupid for thinking his wealth might be off-putting to her because she wasn't accustomed to it. Maybe Jordyn just didn't give a shit about money. After all, she'd kicked those six-hundred dollar pumps off earlier when they arrived without even knowing the price of the heels on her feet. She was tending a bubbling, messy red sauce without an apron on and didn't care a bit about staining the very expensive dress she wore, not that she knew the price of it, either.

An elastic, which she hadn't been wearing before, was holding back her curls in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. With her hair pulled back like it was, some of the bruising on her neck was visible, but it wasn't bad. There was also a slight reddish discoloration at her pulse point that hadn't been there last night, but was curtsey of Lucian's teeth and mouth that morning.

He'd marked her very clearly. Anyone standing close enough to see the love bite would know exactly what it was. Lucian liked that a whole hell of a lot. Just looking at it from a distance sent something primal curling through his stomach while lust flooded his veins.

Kind of like it made Jordyn his.

That was dangerous territory.

Needing to get his mind away from that topic, Lucian crossed the distance between him and Jordyn, coming up behind her silently at the stove. Both of his hands landed at her waist, grabbing tight as he leaned in to kiss her neck. Jordyn didn't start in surprise at his sudden presence. In fact, she relaxed in his hold and turned into his cheek, allowing Lucian to press his lips to the corner of her demure smile.

"Hey," she said. "How'd it go?"

Lucian hadn't hid the fact he and his father were going to need privacy for their chat, and it would be dealing with Jordyn being under his protection and in his life. He figured she deserved to know things that dealt with her.

"Fine," Lucian replied. "I think we settled it all, anyway."

"Bringing a girl home is a big deal for you Marcello boys, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it kind of is, sweetheart. Especially if that girl has a gang looking for her and it might cause us trouble"



       
         
       
        

Jordyn turned rigid at the reminder.

"Sorry," he said quickly.

"No, I just  …  Never mind."

"Tell me."

Jordyn continued stirring the many pots on the stove, sighing. "I guess it's easy to forget."

Lucian's brow furrowed. "Forget? Jesus, how?"

"I'm not sure," Jordyn said with a weak laugh. "That sounds crazy, I know. But when I'm around you, I don't feel like I need to look over my shoulder. I haven't felt unsafe. I mean, look at this house, Lucian." She waved at the kitchen they were standing in. "Right here, right now. How am I supposed to feel like some troubled girl on the run from a man who wants to kill her when I'm in a place like this? It doesn't make me feel that way. So yeah, it's easy to forget."

Maybe he could understand that, if he tried. And hell, if she wanted to slip away from reality for a little while, who was he to bring up something to worry her?

"Helping my mother, hmm?" Lucian asked. "I didn't know you liked to cook. We could go pick up some things, if you want. Being Italian means Cecelia made damn sure we all knew how to feed ourselves."

"She let me try something different, actually."

Lucian froze. "You mean, adding to her recipes? She  …  let you?"

That wasn't possible. Not his OCD, overly anal, manic-in-the-kitchen mother. Cecelia would have a fit if someone moved anything an inch from where she wanted it. Learning to cook under her eagle-eye was unnerving.

"Yes. Why? It was just a couple of spices. It wasn't like I was going to make it taste bad on purpose, Lucian."

Lucian shook his head, trying to shake off the twilight feeling. "No, I don't think you understand. My mother doesn't let people help her cook. Antony once tried to add a little bit of salt to one of her stews, and she nearly broke his knuckle with her stirring spoon. Dante thought it would be funny to switch around her spice labels when he was sixteen, and she made him wash all the baseboards in this house with rags and hot soapy water. Do you want to know the square footage of this home, Jordyn?"

Jordyn didn't seemed bothered by those statements at all. "How long did it take him?"

"A week, and that was with help. She's crazy about this space. We all tend to stay away for obvious safety and mental health reasons."

"She liked what I did. You'll see. It tastes fine. Want to try?"

Lucian stumbled over his mind and words, coming up with absolutely nothing. How on earth did this woman warm up his mother enough to let her meddle with her cooking? It just wouldn't compute in his brain. 

Unless  …

"She likes you," Lucian said, voicing his inner thoughts. "Trusts you."

Jordyn slowly turned in his embrace, staring warily at him. "Is that a bad thing?"