Bella Lucia.
That’s a pretty name.
Goose reaches for the door and holds it open for me. I don’t know what I’m doing here. Yesterday, this sounded like such an amazing idea. This was what we wanted, what I needed to move forward. To get this over and done with. To find out who Jeffery really is and why he really did what he did.
Just like the movies, when we enter the restaurant, there is a man sitting at the back. He’s wearing a suit, and there's a glass of wine in front of him, along with a basket of bread and a plate with oil, balsamic vinegar, and some spices.
I already know it tastes amazing. Just the smells in this place tell me that the food is out of this world. I can only hope that this meeting will go well enough that I can get some food. Because a plate of pasta sounds like heaven right now, and I know it’s going to taste amazing. I can just tell.
The man at the table lifts his head, his eyes finding mine as he motions for us to move closer. I don’t know where Bullet is, but I know he’s supposed to show up. I’m not sure I care either.
But then I hear a throat clear behind me. Turning my head, shifting my gaze away from the man at the table, I look over my shoulder to see that Bullet is indeed here, and thankfully, Ivy is not.
“Take a seat, my friends,” the man at the table states.
“Lorenzo,” Bullet murmurs as he takes a step forward.
The man at the table dips his chin. “Sit,” he demands.
We do that. The three of us sit at this round table, yet somehow are still across from him. He motions for a waiter to come over. A few moments later, the waiter bends at the waist.Lorenzo murmurs something in his ear, he nods a few times, and then he straightens his spine and hurries away.
“He’s gonna bring some wine, water, and more bread,” Lorenzo announces.
Well, I’m here for the bread, I know that much. We don’t speak. That is, until the bread, water, and wine arrive. I reach for the bread, ignoring everyone else around me, because I can’t wait a second longer to taste this heavenly loaf.
Dipping my bread into the oil and vinegar spice mixture, I bring it to my lips and moan the second it touches my tongue. Pure heaven. I love sweets like the next girl, but there is something about warm, fresh, soft bread that is almost orgasmic.
“Well, I’m glad to see a woman enjoy bread. These days, too many people villainize bread. I don’t understand it,” Lorenzo says, waving his hand around.
A few moments later, the waiter appears again, this time taking our order. I make Lorenzo proud a second time when I order spaghetti alla scampi. He smirks, ordering himself a lasagna, and then Bullet and Goose order sandwiches, but I don’t pay attention to them. I'm too busy taking this man in.
“How did you know my mother?” I blurt out the moment the waiter walks away with our lunch orders.
Lorenzo lifts his head, his eyes find mine, and his lips curve up into a smirk. “We were young. Children, really,” he murmurs. “I have many fond memories of her. With her. I loved her.”
“And then?” I ask.
“She met your father and ran to him, or ran from me, I’m not sure. At the time, I was angry, which caused problems between the club and my family. I wanted everyone to suffer the same pain I was feeling at the time. I’m not proud of the war I started, but I was glad to see it end.”
“So what is happening now? With Jeffrey?”
Bullet whistles, and I know it’s because I’m not mincing words. I’m not playing around, though. I want this done so I can enjoy my lunch. My mouth is watering just thinking about the pasta that is going to be set down in front of me.
“Down to the hard questions, then,” Lorenzo says with a chuckle.
He leans back in his chair, folding his hands over his belly and lacing his fingers together as his gaze finds mine. I watch as his tongue slides across his bottom lip. His eyes search mine, and then he clears his throat.
“I like you. You have gumption,” he declares. “My son, Goffredo, has his ideas of what he thinks the world should be. He is young and doesn’t fully understand…”
I open my mouth to say something, but Bullet speaks before I can get a word out. “He understood enough to shoot one of our men. I would be justified in killing him for that,” he states.
To Lorenzo’s credit, he doesn’t appear to be shocked by what Bullet is saying. “I know you could. It’s the main reason I agreed to this, and of course, because I wanted to lay eyes on Cidney myself.”
His gaze flicks to meet mine again, his eyes searching, then he shakes his head once. “I knew you weren’t mine. I knew it before you came into this world, but over the years, I’ve checked in on you, and it confirmed it for me. You look exactly like your father.”
“Then why?” I ask.
I’m met with nothing but silence.
