Liar's Lullaby: A Dark Mafia Romance (Mazzeo Mafia Book 1)

by Nicole Fox

  “You were his son.”

  “Yeah, well, I think we both know that parental bonds don’t always extend to love and care.”

  I turn towards him a little. “Is that why you’re so detached from Evie?”

  I except his mood to shift like it has a dozen times before, but he remains calm. And kind of thoughtful.

  “I don’t want to be like my father,” he admits at last. “But…”

  He trails off, leaving me grasping for his next new words.

  I shouldn’t care so much.

  But I do.

  This matters. It matters so fucking much.

  It matters for that terrified little girl upstairs.

  It matters for the haunted man brooding in this garden.

  And it matters for me. I don’t know when that happened, but it did. I’m part of all this now, whether I like it or not.

  “You’re scared you’ll end up like him?” I finish for him.

  He nods slowly. But he refuses to look at me.

  “I think the fact that you’re even worried about that proves you’re not like your father,” I tell him. “Bad parents never worry. That’s what makes them bad parents.”

  He glances up at me. “How was she affected by what she saw and heard?” he asks.

  My hand almost twitches towards him. My first instinct is to offer comfort, but I manage to stop myself just before I do something I’ll regret later.

  “She’s shaken,” I admit. “But I think she’s desperate for a parent. She needs to know that you care about her. That you’ll protect her.”

  “I will.”

  There’s no denying the determination in his voice when he says that.

  But that alone won’t do it.

  “It’s not enough for you to know that,” I say. “She has to know it, too. She has to feel it.”

  Lucio slumps forward imperceptibly. “I don’t know how to do that.”

  “Start with baby steps,” I advise him. “Maybe you could spend a little more time with her.”

  “She’s not going to be comfortable being alone with me after today.”

  “Not at first,” I agree. “But like I said, baby steps. I’ll be there, too.”

  His gray eyes meet mine.

  I’m not quite sure what I see reflected in there. It’s dense and powerful and really fucking difficult to read.

  But there’s something.

  Something that gives me strength.

  Something that keeps me going.

  “Okay,” he murmurs. “Okay.”

  25

  Lucio

  The Next Evening

  In the early evening, I hear the girls in the garden. I’ve kept my distance all day long, per Charlotte’s suggestion.

  But now, I’m growing impatient. So I go to them.

  They’re throwing a ball around near the fountain. Evie’s back is to me, so Charlotte sees me approaching first. She grabs the ball and holds it to her side.

  “Evie,” she says in a strained voice, “Lucio would like to talk to you. Is that okay?”

  Evie turns around immediately and catches sight of me. Her eyes go wide and tension ripples through her tiny little body, compounding my guilt.

  “Tesoro, I know you’re scared of me,” I begin. “And I’m sorry. Can I please explain?”

  She glances back at Charlotte, who gives her a little nod.

  Then, with a sigh, my daughter turns back to me and fidgets in place. I know that’s the closest I’m going to get to an ‘okay’.

  I’m relieved when Evie doesn’t bolt away from me. She stands rooted in place as I lower myself down on one knee in front of her.

  “Did you sleep good last night?” I ask, starting light.

  She nods.

  “That’s good.”

  I know I’m stalling. I glance up at Charlotte and she offers me a small smile. It’s insane how much that tiny gesture bolsters me.

  “Listen, I know you got scared yesterday. But I had reasons for doing what I did,” I tell her. “It’s hard to explain.”

  Her rosy cheeks tremble slightly. Fuck, I’m losing her. Can’t falter now.

  “Evie, that man you saw in the cellar… he was a bad man,” I say. “And he was a threat to me. To us. Do you know what a ‘threat’ is?”

  She shakes her head.

  “It means that he could have hurt me and the people I care about. That includes you.”

  Her lower lip trembles. She doesn’t know quite how to say it, but the underlying question is obvious: You care about me?

  “And I care about you very, very much,” I say hastily. “I’m just not very good at showing it.”

  “Why not?”

  Well, fuck. That question has me stumped.

  In the end, all I can say is the truth: “I don’t know.”

  Silence.

  Charlotte hasn’t said a word.

  Evie looks all clammed up.

  Until, suddenly, she has something to say.

  “The man was screaming,” she says. “And you kept hitting him.”

  It’s almost an accusation as it comes out of her mouth. Made all the more harsh by the fact that it’s my own young daughter hurling it at me.

  “I know,” I grimace. “Because if I didn’t stop him, he could have hurt you. And my job is to protect you.”

  “Oh.” She looks unconvinced.

  “Do you understand better now, Evie?”

  She looks at me through her eyelashes. “I think so,” she murmurs. Then she adds, “Grown-ups never explains things to me.”

  I smile. “I’ll try and explain things to you in the future, okay?”

  She nods.

  “Can I have a hug?” I ask, trying my luck.

  She eyes me wearily for a moment. It’s like she’s trying to decide whether to trust me or not. Then she nods and steps into my arms.

  I hug her tight. When her arms wrap around my neck, I feel a strange, deep warmth spread across my chest. The polar opposite of that chest-clenching-pain that seized me when she ran from the cellar.

  That was guilt.

  This is love.

  I get to my feet as Charlotte comes forward. “How about we head into the kitchen and start on those cookies I promised yesterday?” she asks cheerily.

  Evie nods excitedly and does a little shimmy that makes me laugh.

  “Would you like to join us?” Charlotte asks, turning to me.

  I hesitate for a second. Charlotte widens her eyes at me, reminding of our talk earlier in the day.

  “Evie, do you mind?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “No. You can come.”

  As we walk back to the house, Evie races on ahead of us. Charlotte falls into step beside me.

  Neither of us say a word.

  And that’s okay.

  I suppress a soft smile as we walk into the kitchen.

  “Where’d the kid go?” I ask when I don’t see Evie anywhere.

  “She probably went back upstairs to get Paulie,” Charlotte replies.

  “Paulie?”

  Charlotte sighs. “Paulie, the platypus. You gotta start paying closer attention. He’s very important to her.”

  “He’s ugly.”

  “That’s the thing about kids,” Charlotte responds. “Their love is unconditional. You should take advantage of it while you can. It won’t stay that way for long.”

  I sit there for a moment and absorb those words.

  Then I turn to face Charlotte again.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  She freezes, fixing me with a befuddled stare.

  “For what?”

  “For helping me out today. It’s not easy for me to connect with—”

  “Anyone?” she cuts in cheekily.

  I narrow my eyes at her. “Kids,” I reply icily. “Not that I tried before now.”

  She grins. “Sometimes, when your childhood has been shitty, it’s hard for you to know what a golden childhood looks like,” she explains. “Or how
to create one.”

  “You’ve managed,” I point out.

  “It’s different,” she replies. “I don’t have the responsibility of raising Evie. I’m just looking after her. What she needs, I can’t give her. Only you can.”

  “That’s a fuck ton of pressure.”

  She chuckles. “I think it comes with the territory,” she says. “Welcome to fatherhood.”

  Just then, Evie bursts back into the kitchen with her stuffed animal in tow.

  Charlotte’s right—Evie really does love that ugly little scrap of fabric. She loves it fully and completely and with her whole heart. I can see it written across her face. In the way she holds him.

  It’s honestly kind of… beautiful.

  I offer her the kindest smile I can. “Is Paulie gonna help us make cookies?”

  “Mhmm,” Evie chirps. Her eyes brighten immediately. “He’s my best friend. Well, him and Charlotte.”

  “I am?” Charlotte exclaims, placing her hands over her heart. “Princess, you just made my day!”

  Evie beams and turns to me. “Do you have a best friend?” she asks.

  I raise my eyebrows. “I’m not sure.”

  She looks shocked. “But everyone needs a best friend.”

  I shrug. “I suppose I can count Adriano as mine,” I laugh, already imagining how fucking giddy he’d be if he could hear me being this sentimental. “Though he annoys me a lot of the time.”

  Evie giggles. “Well, if you need a best friend, you can borrow Paulie,” she tells me generously.

  “Wow, really?”

  “Mhmm.”

  She says it like it’s no big deal. Like she has so much love that it’s an easy thing to share it.

  That warm feeling in my chest deepens.

  Then she looks down at the ugly soft toy and then towards Charlotte. Something has occurred to her.

  “Although, if Paulie’s busy, you can borrow Charlotte instead,” she says with a frown of concentration. She’s clearly thinking twice about her generous offer.

  “Gee, thanks, kiddo,” Charlotte says sarcastically.

  I can’t help but laugh. “I may just take you up on that offer,” I say, glancing towards Charlotte.

  Is it possible she’s blushing? The moment I really look at her however, she turns towards the refrigerator and I’m denied confirmation.

  I’m still very aware of our sexual tension. The kiss we’d shared a few days ago had thrown any hope of denial out the window.

  For both of us.

  “Okay,” Charlotte says in a clear bid to change the subject. “It’s cookie time. And everyone’s gotta get their hands dirty.”

  Silently, I whisper, Yes, micetta… I plan to.

  Half an hour later as the sun sets outside, we’ve got a tub of cookie batter. Evie and I watch as Charlotte separates the batter into three separate bowls.

  She’s not wearing an apron, so there’s flour dusted down the front of her tight black t-shirt. Some on her face, too. A few strands of hair drift wildly from the scraggly bun at the top of her head.

  She’s a mess. Unadorned and unremarkable.

  So why the fuck am I getting hard when I look at her?

  “Okay, so we can add whatever we want to our batch of cookie dough,” Charlotte announces, pushing a bowl towards each of us. “Evie, kick us off. What’s it gonna be?”

  She gives it a moment’s thought. Then she consults with Paulie. The two of them whisper back and forth with utter seriousness.

  Paulie ‘whispers’ something in her ear and she giggles before announcing her choice.

  “Double chocolate chip!”

  “Brilliant choice,” Charlotte replies, feigning surprise. “No one ever saw that coming.”

  She and I laugh privately for a moment while Evie tries to puzzle out what’s so funny. Then Charlotte turns to me.

  “Lucio?” Her blue eyes are shimmering and patient.

  Fuck—she’s a dream.

  “Oh. Uh, not sure. I don’t need anything.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Of course you need something,” she sighs under her breath. “Well, we’ll come back to you. My turn. I’m going to go with—drumroll, please—marshmallows, Nutella, and hazelnuts.”

  Evie and Paulie applaud. Charlotte curtsies and does a cute little twirl for her adoring fans.

  I just watch them interact. That warm glow has spread from my chest to my face, to my fingertips. I feel like I’m vibrating.

  It’s strange.

  But not unpleasant.

  “Lucio?” Charlotte tries again.

  I clear my throat. “Uh, how about rum?”

  Charlotte raises her eyebrows. “Rum? Next.”

  “Oatmeal?”

  “Ew,” Evie scolds, scrunching up her nose.

  “Hey, what’s wrong with oatmeal?” I demand. I’m looking back and forth between the two of them in mock offense.

  “Everything,” Evie and Charlotte pronounce together. They’re playfully disgusted with me.

  “What are you going to suggest next?” Charlotte adds on. “Raisins? Horseradish? Paint thinner?”

  “Now, that’s an idea—”

  “Nope,” Charlotte says, dusting off her hands and shooing me away. “You are not ruining my cookies with raisins. You know what: you’ve been relieved of duty. Evie and I will take it from here.”

  I laugh and admit defeat.

  But I don’t go far. I just lean against the marble island countertop and watch the two of them work.

  It’s a patient assembly line. Evie carefully rolls out the little balls of dough and hands them to Charlotte, who fixes the lumpier bits and arranges them carefully on the greased cooking sheet.

  They hum and chatter and laugh while they work. Paulie is apparently a funny fellow, judging by how often he cracks Evie up.

  Once the cookies are baking, Evie hops down off her stool.

  “Can I play in the garden until they’re ready?” she asks.

  I nod. “Stay in sight of the kitchen.”

  She grabs Paulie and takes off, leaving Charlotte and I alone. The smell of baking cookies is already starting to fill the room.

  “So. Cooking, huh?” I ask.

  Charlotte starts wiping down the center island. “It’s a passion for me,” she says while she cleans. “Not a profession.”

  “Why not?”

  She looks at me as though I’ve asked her a very silly question. “As one of your aunts kept pointing out at the dinner, I don’t have the education or the credentials to be hired anywhere as a chef.”

  “Stranger things have happened.”

  “Not to me,” Charlotte replies. “I’m a lightning rod for bad luck.”

  “You don’t honestly believe that.”

  “Of course I do. I have my whole life as proof,” she shoots back. “There’s a lot I missed out on. Going to culinary school is just one little entry in a very long list.”

  “As is getting drunk,” I recall.

  She shrugs. “My mother was such a bad drinker that it kinda turned me off alcohol. I have tried cheap beer. A long time ago.”

  I wave my hand dismissively. “You need to try the good stuff.”

  She smirks. “I never had the money to be able to do that. I needed to spend my paycheck on silly stuff. Y’know: food, rent. Boring shit like that.”

  “Anyway,” she says, turning to me. “What do you want for dinner?”

  I raise my eyebrows. “You’re making dinner?”

  “Well, that’s generally what one does at this hour,” she sasses. “We have to eat. And dinner’s right around the corner.”

  “We can order in.”

  “I know, but I don’t want to,” she retorts. “I like cooking. Especially for people I like.” The moment the words are out of her mouth, her expression changes. “Uh… um, what I mean is…”

  “I know what you mean,” I cut in. “Clearly, you’re obsessed with me.”

  She rolls her eyes and laughs.

&nbs
p; “You know what?” she says. “Just for that, you don’t get a choice. You’ll eat what I serve you.”

  I smile, but for the first time since she barged into my life, I let her have the last word.

  And the warm glow keeps on spreading.

  26

  Charlotte

  At least ten percent of my bodyweight is now cookie once Evie, Lucio, and I finish demolishing the baked goods post-dinner.

  All three of us were pretty sneaky about how little we ate of the pasta I cooked. We knew that the real treat was warming in the oven.

  And boy, were we right.

  But I’m paying the price now. It takes a Herculean effort to waddle up the stairs and get Evie bathed and ready for bed.

  Once she’s asleep, I head into my bathroom and take a shower of my own.

  I wash all the flour and chocolate off my face. Slowly but surely, I start to feel like a human being instead a cookie monster-slash-whale.

  Once I’m clean, I slip on a pair of skimpy night shorts and the matching tank top, then head downstairs for the final clean-up.

  Just before I round the corner, I hear a noise.

  I frown. Clanking. Banging. The spritz of a spray bottle…

  I step into the kitchen, and Lucio turns to me, a cloth draped over his shoulder. His eyes roam over my body for a moment.

  “I cleaned up,” he says, a little unnecessarily.

  “So you did,” I say in amazement. I’m looking over the shiny counter tops and seeing everything sparkling perfectly. “I’ll be damned. You did a good job, too.”

  “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

  I smile. “Just didn’t peg you as the domestic type.”

  He smirks. “I’m full of surprises.”

  “Oh, I’m already aware of that.”

  The space between us is charged, fueled by the fact that we’ve been getting along today.

  He’s still several feet away from me, but I can still feel his presence everywhere. All over me.

  “Is Evie asleep?” he asks.

  “Out like a light,” I confirm. “She’s had a hard day. A hard couple days.”

  Lucio nods. I can tell that he’s still troubled by the incident that she witnessed.

  In a twisted way, I like that. It humanizes him.