As the days turned into weeks, Eamonn’s finally settled down into brisk levels of business. The pub was definitely on the rebound and back in the black. Additional personnel were hired to man the front of the house, the kitchen and the bar, and for the first time ever, I didn’t have to work on a Friday. And there was no school.
Cesar and I were finally going to have a weekend for ourselves. I was excited.
We’d fallen into a routine. I either went to school or the pub in the morning. He did whatever he did during the day, and then, in the evenings, he picked me up.
I stretched on the bed with a smug smile on my face. Another routine was Cesar waking me up with morning sex. Frequently it would start with his mouth giving me the most exquisite oral pleasure. Sometimes, it would start with him slipping inside me from behind and make slow, gentle love to me. Our evenings were usually for unwinding, sometimes in front of the television, and frequently ended in sex. In the two weeks since we’d started this relationship, we hadn’t spent a single night apart. Cesar had moved some of his things into my closet. In fact, he didn’t have a duffel anymore because he had everything else he needed at my apartment.
Clanging of pots and pans reached my ears. My man was preparing me breakfast.
My man.
A silly smile curved my lips. He didn’t like being called boyfriend. He said it was too juvenile.
Another yawn escaped me, and I decided to quit daydreaming and join him in the kitchen. He’d prepared breakfast once before. He was an expert in making frittata. I brought home chopped vegetables from the pub, so I didn’t feel too guilty about not helping him cook.
After freshening up and wrapping a robe around my pajamas, I headed to the kitchen. I caught Cesar in profile. He usually walked around in his boxers and nothing else, but he’d been mindful to put something on ever since the morning Mads came up with the kids and having not heard them come in, emerged from the hallway bathroom naked.
This time his pajama bottoms were slung low on his hips and he was shirtless.
Sexy as hell whether he was in a suit, half-naked, or fully nude.
One would say I was hopelessly infatuated with Cesar De Lucci.
“Good morning.” I hugged him from behind and he hugged me in return. He kissed the top of my head and nudged me toward the coffee maker.
“Get caffeinated.”
I did as I was told. The other morning, he was running late for an appointment—although I wondered what appointments he would be having at six-thirty since he was his own boss. I didn’t have a class until ten and I could have just used the train. He argued that maybe I could help out a bit at the restaurant, and that he and Eric could come by and take me to class.
I mean … what the hell? We’d had this argument about him chauffeuring me around all the time. It was convenient, sure, but not when it stole three hours of extra sleep.
However, the biggest transgression of that day was that he made me leave the house without coffee.
But this morning Cesar made up for it with the way he woke me up. It wasn’t a hardship either to sit in the chair with my mug of coffee while I leisurely ogled his glorious ass. Because of how busy the past two weeks had been, I didn’t have the time to reflect on what we were as a couple. We didn’t talk about the future or where our relationship was going. We hung out at home and left the apartment together. He didn’t always wait for me at Eamonn’s. Sometimes he’d disappear somewhere and then return close to the end of dinner service. I was thankful for that at least … not having him glare at my male customers and affect my tips.
Interestingly enough, it was during sex when we were the most open, and I was most vulnerable to feeling something. At first, I attributed this to my fear that no man would measure up to him again. As for Cesar, it didn’t matter if he fucked me hard or slow, there was always a fierceness in his gaze each time he possessed me and told me I was his.
I shivered at the memory.
“The frittata should be ready soon.” He put the platter of bacon in front of me beside my keychain. Why were my keys on the counter and not where I left them on the console table at the entrance to the apartment? Wait a minute. It was my keychain, but the configuration of keys was different. My building and apartment keys were missing and there was an unfamiliar one on it. “What’s this?
“I bought a row house in Greenwich Village. We can move in next week.”
I addressed the second anomaly. “Where are my keys?”
The kitchen timer dinged, and Cesar simply smiled at me before turning away to tend to the frittata. Grabbing a towel, he opened the oven and pulled it out, laying it on a trivet.
“Cesar,” I pressed. “Where are my keys?”
“I gave them to Eric. He’s making duplicates.”
“What?” It was too early for my blood pressure to rise.
“Have some coffee.” He pushed the mug toward me.
“Caffeine isn’t going to make this question go away,” I snapped.
“Don’t you think it’s easier?” he said, eyes glittering. “I practically live here anyway.”
“It’s been two weeks,” I groaned.
“I get frustrated when I want to buy you things and bring them in here while you’re busy with school. What if I wanted to surprise you with a romantic home-cooked dinner?”
“Damn you,” I muttered. “You can be a psycho yet sound so sweet.”
“I don’t see what the problem is. You trust me, don’t you?” He frowned. “If you have questions, all you need to do is ask.”
Raising my mug, I took a sip. “Oh my God. This is so good. New beans?”
“Guatemalan,” he replied. “I stopped yesterday at my friend’s beanery.”
“You should make the coffee in the mornings from now on. You always make it better.”
Cesar started to serve me a slice of frittata. He was so obviously buttering me up for something. “Okay. What else did you do?”
Taking his time in serving me bacon, he made me more anxious.
“What else did you do?”
He glanced up. “We’re having dinner with Pop tonight. Paulie and Carlotta are going to be there.”
A weight settled on my chest. “Are we ready for that?”
“Aren’t we?”
“We’re that serious?”
His mouth tightened. “I’ve been serious about you from the beginning.” Irritation flashed through his face. “When will you get that through your damned head?”
“Whoa, there, buster.” I glared at him. “I’ve been busy. I haven’t really stopped to think about our relationship.”
“And you’re overthinking it right now. Shouldn’t we just go with the flow?”
“Oh, you mean go with the flow, like you directing traffic?” I nodded to the keychain. “I didn’t think we’re at that point yet.”
He muttered a curse, grabbed the Irish whiskey, dumped a shot into his coffee, and took his seat in front of me.
“Am I annoying you enough that you need to drink so early in the morning?”
“You’re not annoying me,” he growled. “I like the taste of it in my coffee.” He paused. “Sometimes.”
“Like when you’re irritated.”
“Stop being so juvenile about it.”
My eyes narrowed. “That’s not being juvenile, but for the record, you are older than me by eleven years.”
We glared at each other.
“Is my age bothering you?”
“No!”
“Good. Because I don’t give a fuck.”
My mouth fell open.
“Eat your breakfast,” he barked.
“Well, I’m not sure if I want to now.” I put my knife and fork down. It turned out I had my limits with his bossiness and I let him know it.
His eyes pinned me to my chair. His jaw was so tightly clenched, I was afraid he’d damage his teeth. “Ava,” he said quietly. “Please eat.”
An apology bubbled up my throat, but we were both in the wrong. “Truce?” I offered.
A slight smile touched the corner of his mouth as he nodded. Those half smiles of his did me in. I loved his maturity. With Brad, sometimes we ended up in a shouting match, but with Cesar he always knew when to pull back. I’d never had an argument with him that devolved into pettiness. A battle of wills, yes, but nothing idiotic. Although I was sure when we got more comfortable with each other we’d have those days.
“You’re the master of frittata.” I forked the eggy breakfast into my mouth. “You could make this blindfolded.”
“This is only the second time I’ve cooked this for you. The time-consuming part is chopping the vegetables. The rest is throwing it together in a pan.”
“Where did you learn how to cook?”
“Ma taught me before I left for Harvard. Making sure I’d still eat healthy and not indulge in junk food. But when I was in Italy, I stayed for a while in Calabra with my friend Gio. He’s the cook in the family. Way better than his wife. We chatted about business in the kitchen and he put me to work.”
“Well, lucky me.” I was almost done with my first helping.
Cesar nodded to the pan and cut another piece. “More?”
“Yes, please.”
I could tell he was gratified I liked his cooking. There was a certain satisfaction on his face. It didn’t apply only to food, but anything he did or bought for me. It was like he enjoyed taking care of me. That did a number on my heart. The truth was I was probably more than infatuated with Cesar. But growing up with brothers, I tended to have their logical minds and was wary about emotions. I hadn’t analyzed my feelings yet. It was as though there was a wall, but I was also getting dissatisfied with the status quo.
Two weeks. Was that enough time to take this to the next level?
I was impatient to see him again each night even when I’d just seen him that morning. The sex was smoking hot, but even simply cuddling on the couch, watching a sitcom or a talk show gave me something to look forward to in the evenings. When Cesar could tell I was running on fumes, he’d make me come with his mouth and then let me sleep. One time I caught him jacking off in the shower. That was one of the hottest things I’d ever witnessed, especially when my name rolled off his tongue as he came.
“Mind sharing your thoughts?” He finished his breakfast and was sipping his whiskey-spiked coffee.
“I was thinking how far we’d come in two weeks. So, Greenwich Village huh?”
“Yes. I’ve secured office space in Midtown and will be moving part of my company there. Just headquarters.”
I rimmed my coffee mug with my finger. “You never said what you do besides real estate and investment banking. You hinted that you did a lot more.”
“Casinos. A few resorts.”
“Oh?”
His mouth curved. “I don’t run them. I’m more of a silent partner.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes.” He watched me closely. “But I’m not sure you’re prepared to hear them.”
I swallowed. “They’re illegal.”
He didn’t answer me.
Illegal then.
I exhaled a breath. “Okay. I didn’t grow up in a vacuum from organized crime. I mean my own Dad is in jail for racketeering. I understand this life more than you know.”
“You didn’t mind it when your dad used you for an excuse to do his collections?”
“Lounging in the sunroom and being served snacks sure beats working at Eamonn’s. You saw me as Paulie’s annoying little friend though.”
His eyes gleamed. “If I’d known you’d get me under your spell this way, I would have come back sooner.” He looked away. “But maybe it was a good thing that I didn’t see you when you turned eighteen.” A muscle ticked at his jaw.
“Why?”
“You wouldn’t have been ready.”
“And you think I’m ready now?”
“Oh, you are.”
I laughed. “Wait a minute. Ready for what?”
“You’ll see.”
My heart pounded. Surely he didn’t mean what I think he meant. But then again, it wasn’t unusual with Italian marriages. I was wondering if he’d ever considered an arranged marriage before, and I almost asked him, but I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea that was what I was expecting.
And I nearly forgot what I was going to ask him.
“What?” An arrogant brow arched.
“Are you involved in drug trafficking?”
His face darkened. “Absolutely not.” He actually looked offended.
“How about loan sharking?”
“No. Have I lent money before? Yes, but the rates were reasonable. And I never shot anyone’s kneecaps or smashed their fingers because they weren’t able to pay me back.”
“Murder for hire?”
“No. But understand I wouldn’t hesitate to protect what’s mine with any means necessary.”
Like Silvio. Surprisingly, I had no problem with that.
“Okay. This is a biggie, and I want you to be honest with me. I don’t think you’d be involved in it. I mean, if I ever find out you were … past, present, or future. I’m done. This is non-negotiable. I could usually—”
“You want to know if I’m involved in human trafficking,” he said dryly.
“How …”
He stood up, cleared our plates, and dropped them in the sink. Afterward, he took the seat next to me and covered my hand in his. The pull of his gaze demanded my attention.
“Don’t you realize yet, Ava?” he said. “We grew up in this life, but we also share the same values.”
“I wouldn’t say extortion is a positive value,” I said bitterly.
“Your father and brother acted on orders.”
“From your dad.”
Cesar nodded. “He also worked for the Rossis. Understand if it wasn’t us, it would be another boss. It’s about territory. We were the lesser evil. That’s why Pop encouraged us to pursue legitimate businesses because without financial power and influence in the higher echelons, the De Lucci family would appear weak.” He exhaled a heavy breath. “Especially after Lorenzo.”
“Paulie wasn’t straightforward with what happened … if it was a hit from within the family or outside.”
He stared at me steadily. “He committed suicide.”
My blood ran cold. “What?”
“There were rumors about it among the Five Families, but only my parents, Uncle Jackie, and Paulie know the truth.”
And now that included me. I didn’t move. I didn’t know what to say. Cesar had bound me to him irrevocably by revealing this secret.
“My brother witnessed an atrocity committed in front of him and did nothing.” Cesar’s jaw clenched. His eyes bled with something close to madness. “The murder of a child and a pregnant woman. It was a joint task between our two families. This idiot husband owed money to us and was about to turn federal witness.” His smile was bitter. “I was with him when Lorenzo took his own life.”
“Oh my God, Cesar,” I whispered.
“His last words to me were about making sure Paulie didn’t become a made man.” A flash of anguish crossed his face, and his eyes closed briefly. When he opened them, they were back to the alert glint that I was so used to seeing in them. “I left for Italy soon after. I wanted to learn the inner workings of the La Cosa Nostra, ‘Ndrangheta, and the Camorra mafia.”
“That’s what you did in Europe? Ingratiate yourself into criminal organizations without being a soldier but just an associate?”
“Yes. I found ways to be indispensable while still retaining autonomy. Did I need to be careful in handling the bosses? Yes. They were full of ego. But I gave them the highest yield for their money.”
“You launder their money. How is that different if the source is drugs or from human trafficking.”
His gaze bore into mine. “It’s complicated, but it’ll make sense.”
Not good enough.
“Ava.” Sensing my urge to pull away, he tightened his grip on my hand. “I need you to trust me for a while longer.”
The earnestness etched on his face settled the turmoil inside me, but I still had to ask, “Why can’t you tell me now?”
“The less you know, the better.”
It was a rollercoaster, this anxiety rising up once more. “Cesar,” I whispered. “I don’t want you to go to jail.”
“It’ll be fine.”
Those were the same words Dad said before he and Charles left for their final job.
