Kiss de La Notte - Book III (Mafia Romance)

Chapter Three: Lucius

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Just a quick note for those who have asked. This story is New Adult fiction maturity-wise, just like Omertà and Borgata!

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The rest of the day was a stressful blur of trying to shift my energy to college work. I had an exam the next day, and I was struggling to memorize what felt like a thousand psychology terms, when only one word was plaguing my brain.

Marriage.

What kind of father gave their daughter away to a criminal? I knew my dad was hardhearted when he needed to be, but this was another level. He was almost acting desperate for the La Notte's help and it made me wonder why.

Instead of torturing myself with my spiraling thoughts and trying to focus on flashcards any further, I decided to take a break and wandered downstairs into the kitchen to find Gemma filling the dishwasher.

"Hey," I said, starting to load the rest of the dish washer.

"Oh, stop it," Gemma said, swatting my hand away from the dishes. "You've been so busy with school, take a load off."

"Sorry I didn't come down for dinner. What'd you make?"

"Just gnocchi with tomato sauce. There's a big salad in the fridge and fresh grated parmesan."

I pulled open the fridge doors to grab the wrapped wooden bowl inside. "Did Dad and Mia eat?"

"Mia wanted to eat at her desk in her room and your father ate in his office." Gemma leaned against the counter and crossed her arms, watching me with a troubled expression

"He told you, didn't he?"

"Yes," she said. "You would be surprised how common arranged marriages are in Italy."

"This is not the same, Gemma." I filled my bowl with gnocchi and popped it into the microwave. I gave her the rehashed version of my own side of the story.

Gemma looked even more concerned by the time I finished telling her every detail of my encounter with Lucius. "This is so unlike your father," she said at last. "He loves you and Mia very much and yet he is giving you to a complete stranger. It just doesn't make any sense."

Gemma had been around for a few years, but she didn't know my father like I did. He was always different around Gemma. My father was a business man above all else and the La Notte's were an asset to everything he'd built.

A masculine laugh I didn't recognize sounded from the near distance.

"Is Papà in a meeting?" I whispered.

Gemma frowned and set the towel on her shoulder down. "I don't think so?"

Shit, I thought, quickly grabbing a napkin as I prepared to book it. Shit, shit, shit––

My father strolled into the kitchen. "There you are, Korinna."

My breath froze at the man who came up behind my father in the archway. The first thing I noticed was the way he walked into the room with an almost a swaggered stride, like he owned the place. He wore a black three-piece suit tailored to dangerous perfection. A white dress shirt, a black vest, a long black wool overcoat over it. His dark brown hair was a medium length and longer than I originally thought. It was slightly disheveled, like he'd run his fingers through it and messed up whatever prim style it had been in.