Page 17 of His Vicious Desire

She shrugs with a grin.“I don’t know a single man who has ever made anything except a drink unless they have to.”

“Ah, my mother never gave my brothers and me any choices.She had us in the kitchen the moment we were old enough.Then she pissed off my dad by teaching us Spanish as our first language instead of Italian the way he wanted her to.”

“That’s kind of cool, though, teaching you guys to cook.If Sandro wanted a drink, my mom rushed to make it for him.He and my dad never lifted a finger to take care of themselves.Sandro admitted after she first died, he had the hardest time figuring out how to work the stove to cook something for me.Once, he said he’d love to take the time to learn to cook, but he never has.”

I remember those weeks right after his mom died.He was stressed out about feeding Bianca, mainly frozen dinners he could throw in the microwave, and wondering if he was doing anything right.

“I don’t cook often, but I like having fresh tortillas, rice, and beans in the house.All three are easy to make, and you can do a lot with all of it.There are also times when I’ll go weeks without wanting to eat a single bite of any of it and I eat out.It depends on my mood.Last night, I wanted some refried bean and cheese burritos, so I cooked.”I give her my own shrug.

Tilting her head to the side, she studies me.“Your mom was Latina?How many brothers do you have?Do you have any sisters?”

I grab her backpacks from her and take them into my room.She follows me and hesitates at the open door of my room.“I’m not going to make you sleep on the hard-ass bed in the guest room.I picked the hardest bed I could find so my brother wouldn’t sleep over.It’s not great for longer than a few days, but I’ll live.You’re not going to sleep easily as it is.”

Hell will come tonight, knowing she’s sleeping in my bed where I’ve dreamed of her for months.

Her smile is small and sweet.“Thank you for letting me sleep in here.I’ll admit I’m a baby.I can’t even sleep on the couch for longer than ten minutes because it’s so hard.How many brothers do you have, any sisters?”

“No sisters and two brothers.My mom was from Mexico City.Her father was a professor of microbiology.She was supposed to follow in his footsteps.Then, she came to Las Vegas for a week of fun before starting university.Instead of fun, she was robbed.My father found her and her best friend crying.He spoke Spanish, due to it being a help for some of our employees, and stopped to help them.She never went back to Mexico.”

“How romantic.Your dad saving your mom like that.”

Her eyes are sparkling.I don’t want to dim the light, except I have to.If I don’t, she’s only going to see the good and won’t even think of the bad.Bianca believes in happily ever after.In things that don’t exist—at least not in the real world.Or maybe it does in the civilian world, but it doesn’t exist in the mafia.

“Maybe in the beginning.Twelve years in, she offed herself on her birthday.My father never met a woman he didn’t want and couldn't get.For him, it was almost a compulsion—he admitted he hated cheating on my mom.Yet he also admitted the longest he went without cheating was maybe six or seven months at a time.There was also the fact he was basically a functioning alcoholic.Mom was done because he once again forgot her birthday and was out with his girlfriend.”

Bianca loses her smile and that sparkle in her eyes.I hate it and wish like fuck I hadn’t said a word.Only there’s no taking it back.

“It wasn’t the first time she tried.She overdosed on pills on my tenth birthday.The only good thing about this time was she did it outside the house—they found her in the park down the street from our house.That time, she used a gun.”

“I’m so sorry.”The words are an exhalation of air.A hand goes up to my arm.

I shake my head and back away from her.No.If she touches me, we’re both completely fucked all the way to hell.“Nothing to be sorry for, princess.Now, what do you want to eat?”

“I guess a bean and cheese burrito will work.”She shrugs and looks around my room.

“Coming up.I’ll leave you to get sorted.”

I’m almost done when she comes into the kitchen.“We need to go to the store.”

“Why?”I don’t shop.

Her forehead knots.“Because you’re an asshole.You made me hurry, so I forgot the important stuff like deodorant, toothbrush, shampoo, and conditioner—basically my bathroom stuff.”

Fucking hell.I don’t shop or clean more than the basics.Estelle is the housekeeper I hired when I was fifteen for my brothers, so they would have someone to clean and cook for them.All these years later, she splits her days between me and Nico.She was here earlier today, so she won’t come for another three days.

“Fine.We’ll go later.”

“So, when did you move in here?Why is your place so empty?”She’s looking around the kitchen.There’s a small table to seat four in the large kitchen.Since I like to cook, my kitchen looks like it.There’s a stainless steel two-door refrigerator and a gas stove that costs what most people make in a year.

She takes in the dining room where I have my workout room of a weight machine, free weights, a punching bag, and a treadmill.With my office, library, and needing a spare bedroom for Dario, the only room that made sense for my workout room was the dining room—since I wasn’t going to have people over to need a dining room.

“It’s a way of keeping my brother from coming by and getting comfortable.”

“You said before you hadbrothersplural.What about the plural?”

“Nico doesn’t leave his place…” I shrug, not really wanting to go into what happened.There was an incident, and he’s scarred up pretty badly.“He runs the cameras and security for the Outfit.My other brother Dario is a pain in the ass.If he had his way, he’d be here all the time.”

“Huh.”

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