He looked pleased. “Well, good. I hope you like it.”
Picking up her utensils, she took a bite of the spaghetti, knowing it was going to be good, but not as good as it tasted the second it was in her mouth. She should have known based on the sole fact that he was Italian.
“It’s the best I’ve ever had.”
“Thank you, darlin’.” Cutting into a meatball, he asked, “What’s your favorite meal?”
Hmm. She had to think about it for a moment. It was a hard question when you had delicious food in front of you and you weren’t a picky eater to begin with. “That’s hard, but I think my favorite meal would have to be chili.”
He didn’t seem to believe it as he made a dubious face. “Chili?”
She made her own incredulous face back at him. “What’s wrong with chili?”
“I’ve just never heard of anyone saying their favorite food is chili. I don’t think I’ve ever even had a good enough chili for me to like it.”
Thinking about it, she never heard of anyone liking it that much, either. It seemed to be one of those things you could live without, unlike pizza or fries.
“Well, when it’s the right chili, it’s one of the best meals you can have.”
“What do you like about it?” he asked curiously.
“I don’t know really.” She went deep in thought, trying to figure it out before it hit her. “It just makes me feel warm and at home, I guess … And happy. I feel happy when I eat it. Is that weird?”
Looking at her with green eyes, he shook his head. “No, darlin’.”
“I think I just like it so much because it was the only thing my mom was good at cooking.” Her mother had stolen the recipe from her sister, which was the only reason it tasted good in the first place.
“I’ve never made it before, but I’ll see if I can make it for you.”
“That’s okay. I don’t wa—”
“No, I want to. I can’t promise that it will be any good, but I want to try for you.”
“Okay. T-Thank you.” She smiled, going back to her food.
The rest of the meal was enjoyed in silence. It was too good to continue talking. It really was the best spaghetti she had ever eaten, even up until the last bite.
Not until the last bite was taken and Lucca got up did she realize what was next.
She nervously got up, picking up her plate. “I-I can take these to the sink and d-do the dishes for you.”
“That’s okay, darlin’. I don’t want you to get your clean bandages dirty.”
When the plate slipped away into his grasp, she felt her hope of not having to sit beside him go along with it. She had gotten used to sitting so close to him on the floor every evening, but this was going to be the first time since finding out what he did for a living. She could also feel this time was going to be different because he was starting to touch her now.
Lucca placed the dishes in the sink and went into the living room, taking his seat in the big leather chair and placing the pillow down for her beside his feet.
She hadn’t moved an inch.
“Come here, Chloe,” he commanded, sensing her nerves.
Her body moved like it always did at his demands, not stopping until it fulfilled what he wanted by sitting down on the pillow beside him. She sat stiffly with his widespread leg closer than usual.
“You’ve been fine around me all day, darlin’; why are you so nervous now?”
He’s right, she told herself in shock. She had been nervous around him when she had first come downstairs, but when she had gone outside to the garden with him, she had been fine. Maybe it was the calmness of being outside, or even the calmness of him today. However, the moment it was time to sit here with him, it had all changed.
Holding her hands together, she wished she could squeeze them. “B-Because I know you’ve been waiting all day for this.”
As Lucca reached down and picked up a strand of her hair, she felt his cold fingertips ever so lightly brush her neck, making her question if it really happened or not.
“How did you know?” he asked darkly, beginning to twirl her hair.
“I can just feel it.” In my bones.
“Do you know why I like sitting here with you like this every night?”
She shook her head, unsure if she really wanted to hear the answer.
“It relaxes me. Calms me …” He paused, wrapping the hair tighter around his finger. “And it stills the darkness.”
“The darkness …?” she whispered, feeling breathless.
“The part in me that whispers for me to do very dark things.”
Turning, she looked back at the chilling man. “The part that makes you the underboss?”
Lucca nodded.
Turning away from him, not wanting to look at him when he answered, she asked, “H-How did you become the underboss?”
“My last name and my father. Only men with the Caruso name can hold the position of the boss or underboss. Me being my father’s firstborn son is what solidified my position, as my father was once the underboss before he took his father’s place. It’s been that way for many generations.”
She looked back at him, shocked by the information he had given her. “So, you will take your father’s place one day?”
He ran his thumb over the dark silk, feeling its soft texture. “Yes.”
She should have expected that he would, but a part of her seemed to have blocked it out, not wanting him to continue the dangerous lifestyle.
“Who will take your place as the underboss, then?” Each question she asked and each answer he gave only made more questions arise.
“It depends on when I take his place. Most likely, it will be Nero, if he wants it.”
“Oh.” I wonder if Elle knows that. “How old were you when you became the underboss?”
“My father had appointed Enzo his underboss until I was ready. He didn’t carry the last name Caruso, so I took his place when I became twenty-one.”
“They made you the underboss so young?”
He smiled at her obvious concern. “Well, I became a made man when I was seventeen.”
“You did? You weren’t even an adult.” She didn’t think it was possible to become even more shocked.
“Yes, you are to be of age when you become made, but I was the exception.”
Chloe swallowed. “W-Why?”
“I did something that would only scare you away from me if I told you.” He unraveled her hair, only to wind it around his finger again. “Maybe one day I will tell you, darlin’, but not today.”
Taking her eyes off him, she was more than thankful that he hadn’t told her, knowing that whatever it was had to be horrific for him to be made that young.
“What do you do as the underboss?”
“I make sure the family runs smoothly, and that my men are in order, along with many other things.”
She remembered then about Sal telling her he had given Nero, Amo, and Vincent their jobs.
“What job did you give Amo?” she asked.
A smile started to appear on his face. “What makes you ask that?”
“Sal told me he worked in the basement of the casino.”
“Really?” he asked, still smiling. “Sal talked to you about the family?”