Page 6 of Mafia Heiress
Ciro steps around him and shoves him out of the way. Vito catches himself on the counter giving the larger man a scowl. Ciro could care less.
“Morning,bella. Miss me?”
“Morning, Ciro. How are your nuts?”
My mother gasps and covers her mouth, the spoon covered with the polenta flying all over the kitchen.
“Giacomina Teresa Maria. What did you do to Ciro?”
“I kicked him in the balls.” I stand straight and wait for her to scold me, but my father picks that moment to walk into the kitchen.
“I heard. You’re not being very lady-like,” he says, reaching for the mug on the top shelf of the cabinet. My mother, coffee pot in hand, takes the cup from him and fills it up. She pours cream into it and hands it back.
“You didn’t raise me to be a lady. You raised me to not take shit, and Ciro was being ascemo. Not my fault he’s got a big mouth.”
My father sips his coffee, but a slight tug on the corner of his lips makes me hide my own smile. He’ll never get mad at me for sticking up for myself. He’s the one who taught me how to shoot a gun when I was ten. How to punch like a man when I was twelve, and how to aim for all the ‘soft spots’, as he calls them, when I got my period. He’s not the typical father and he has some major flaws, but I wouldn’t trade him for the world.
“I’m sorry about that, Jack. I’ll know for next time,” Ciro says, handing me a box.
It’s silver on the outside and a white ribbon makes a perfect bow on the top. I give him a look before pulling on one end of the string. The bow comes out and I open the lid up. Inside is a crystal, but not just any crystal. It’s a raw cut Alexandrite, and it’s fucking huge.
I look up at him, mouth agape before turning down to the stone again. “How in the fuck did you get one this big?”
“Don’t worry,bella,I got all the big things,” he smirks and then pales when he sees my mother’s face, mumbling his apologies.
“Thank you, it’s perfect. How did you know I collect crystals?”
It’s not like I advertise that I have a fascination with witchy things. No one knows besides Ana. My mother thinks I like shiny things. I had to hide all my books under the floorboard near my bed. Otherwise, I would have been beaten for reading the ‘devil’s work’.
“I can’t let you know all my secrets can I?”
He’s quite proud of himself, hands in his tight jean pockets. Black t-shirt stretched across a muscled chest. His tattoos peeking out from under the collar. It makes me want to undress him to see what he looks like underneath his clothes.
“My present isn’t as lavish, but I thought you could use some after last night. My sister makes it, and supposedly it helps with stress,” Dante says, handing me a small shopping bag.
I put the box with the stone on the counter and peer inside of the bag. Pulling out a glass jar filled with creamy white substance. I open it up and breathe in. Lavender, vetiver, and calendula. It settles my mind instantly.
I scoop up some of the cream and rub it on my wrist. The silky texture absorbs right in and leaves a beautiful scent behind. I hand the jar to my mother who is discreetly checking out the jar.
She takes it and smooths some on the back of her hand, nodding, lips pursed. “This goes on like butter. Your sister has a talent. I’ll have to buy some from her.”
“I’ll bring some over the next time I pick up Giacomina. She won’t charge you, you’re family now.”
His sly smile doesn’t go unnoticed by the other guys. I chuckle under my breath and don’t try to get in the middle of what I’m sure is going to be a pissing contest as soon as they leave my house.
“Saved the best for last,” Marcello says.
He nudges Dante out of the way and places an envelope in my hand. I look at him quizzically and hope to fuck this isn’t money. I’ll boot him from this contest so fast his head will spin.
What I find is something that I could never in a million years have guessed. Not even if you gave me clues, I’d still never be able to believe it.
“Why is there a picture of a horse?” Ciro says, looking over my shoulder.
“I thought it was time for Jack to have her own horse. I ride on my days off and figured you’d want to join me sometime,” Marcello says, shuffling from foot to foot.
I fling myself at him and inhale his heady scent. He doesn’t hesitate, pulling me in and wrapping his arms around me.
A throat clears and I step back, pink staining my cheeks. “Sorry, Dad. I got caught up,” I mutter, taking my place back by the kitchen island.
