A Very Marcello Christmas (Filthy Marcellos Book 5)

by Bethany-Kris

  His brother wasn’t required to.

  Dante was the boss.

  Not Lucian.

  Their life was all about the respect, after all.

  Beyond that, it also might not be very safe for Lucian and Dante to be having too personal, or business-related conversations while in the jail visitation area. There were cameras all over the place, for one damn thing. Guards at the three entrances and exits. Probably a wire somewhere. Hell, maybe the other visitors waiting on detainees weren’t even really visitors, but someone planted to listen in on the Marcello brothers.

  Dante, the Don. Lucian, his underboss.

  Paranoid?

  Maybe.

  Lucian didn’t give a shit. Being paranoid saved his ass more times than he cared to admit. This was just another one of those things. He didn’t trust fucking anybody—neither did Dante. It was part of their business, and how they were raised. It wasn’t about to change.

  It also made this difficult because he really wanted to know what his brother was talking about …

  “Are you going to tell me, or tell me to fuck off?” Lucian asked.

  Dante chuckled dryly. “The latter, but you know, without the actual words. No need to be rude to you and all, given your … situation.”

  “Fuck you.”

  A grin curved his brother’s lips.

  “Can you tell me?” Lucian pressed after a second.

  Dante cleared his throat. “Not really.”

  “Who knows?”

  “Just us brothers, and Papa.”

  Ah.

  “Not even Cat?” Lucian asked, referring to Dante’s hellish wife.

  Sure, he loved his sister-in-law, but she was still … well, hellish.

  “Not even her, but that’s only because she hasn’t stumbled on something and asked.”

  “Huh. So, not bad then?”

  Dante looked back to Lucian with a wide smile. “Definitely not bad, big brother. Hey, what do you want for Christmas by the way?”

  Lucian laughed. “Christmas is going to be long over by the time I get out of here, so don’t even worry about it. You don’t need to save presents for me, man. I’m good.”

  “Still. What would you want?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Yeah.”

  “To be home with my wife and kids, Dante. What else?”

  Dante nodded. “Thought so. Well, I bought you a new Rolex with black diamonds covering the face of it, so like it and deal with that instead, all right?”

  “Are the hands on the watch white?”

  “With silver tips,” his brother confirmed.

  Lucian whistled low. “Damn, I bet that looks good.”

  “It does.”

  “Merry Christmas to me.”

  Dante cocked a brow, but said nothing.

  “So hey, if I gave you a note, would you give it to Papa for me?”

  “What’s the note?” Dante asked.

  “A list.”

  His brother just stared at him.

  Lucian rolled his eyes. “Just some things I wanted him to pick up for me—to do.”

  “Don’t make Papa your messenger, Lucian. He’s too old for that shit.”

  What bee crawled up his brother’s ass?

  “Not a messenger, Dante. He’s my Santa.”

  December 9th

  Jordyn shot Catrina a look, and then Kim. Neither of her two sisters-in-law said a word as Cecelia continued talking. This was far out of the norm for their mother-in-law. What she was proposing didn’t even sound real.

  A party.

  Them.

  Planning it.

  Only them planning it.

  “So, are you girls up to it?” Cecelia finally asked.

  Cella was trying to climb up Jordyn’s leg, so she opted to use her daughter as a halfway decent distraction while she answered her mother-in-law. “Of course we can, Cecelia.”

  “Sure,” Cat said right after.

  “Uh,” Kim deadpanned.

  Cecelia’s gaze darted to what she probably took as the weakest of the three. The rusty chain. The weak link. The one out of the three girls who was most likely to drop out of the whole shebang. Even if Kim was none of those things.

  Her mother-in-law was like a damn shark in the water. She could smell blood from miles away.

  Right now, by the look on Cecelia’s face, Kim was bleeding out like a gutted pig.

  “Uh, Kim?” Cecelia asked.

  Oh, they loved their mother-in-law. Cecelia Marcello had given them all the most wonderful gifts in the world. Husbands she had raised to be good, decent men. Unconditional love because she treated them like they were her daughters from her body. A mother.

  More than anything else, she gave them a mother.

  That didn’t mean they pretended like their mother-in-law wasn’t just a tad bit too anal. That she sometimes got picky on the details. Or that she liked to do all the things only her way.

  “Uh,” Kim repeated, her gaze darting to her sisters-in-law, and then back to Cecelia just as fast. “You’re actually going to let us plan it?”

  “Yep,” Cecelia said with a nod.

  “All of it?”

  “That’s what I said, Kim.”

  “Because you’re too busy.”

  “Okay, now you’re just parroting stuff back to me, sweetheart. We already went over all of this.”

  “Because you’re going to keep being busy,” Kim added, not missing a beat.

  “Kim!”

  Kim busted out laughing, and in seconds, had everyone else in the room laughing, too. “Hey, it’s fine. I was only joking with you, Cecelia. We can have this all planned and ready to go, no worries. Do you have a theme or anything you want to go over with us?”

  “I’m letting you three take the reins on everything.”

  Jordyn gave a little cough. “Everything?”

  “Every detail. I would prefer that you make homemade food for the guests, but I know we’re running short on time. Usually I start prepping for these things a couple of months ahead of time. So this year, cater in.”

  “Red and white would be a nice theme,” Cat joined in with a smile.

  “You just have a thing for red,” Jordyn told her.

  Her oldest sister-in-law didn’t even deny it. In fact, Catrina waved her painted red stiletto nails, and her ruby lips curved in a knowing grin. “Well, sì, Jordyn.”

  “A little gold, too, maybe?” Kim asked.

  “That would be nice,” Cecelia said.

  Catrina shrugged. “They did decorate Tuxedo Park in the red and white theme this year, so it would match. We all know Cecelia has a whole attic full of fifty years’ worth of Christmas decorations, so we won’t be without things to decorate the main rooms for the party.”

  “With new items, please,” Cecelia said. “Always with some new items.”

  Jordyn dictated a few things into her phone, and then looked up at the rest of the women in their family. “So, that’s it?”

  “Yep.” Cecelia didn’t look like she entirely believed herself when she said it, but she nodded anyway. Like maybe she was trying to make herself believe what she was saying. “That’s it.”

  “Cecelia, we can handle this,” Cat assured.

  “No problem,” Kim echoed.

  “When is the party date?” Jordyn asked. “The one you wanted to have?”

  “I was thinking the twentieth.”

  Jordyn didn’t even have to do the math. Her whole life was becoming a ticking clock, counting down minutes, hours, and days until her husband was back home. He wasn’t going to be home for the party, or even for Christmas, but she still knew what was coming without having to think on it too hard. She knew because he wasn’t going to be there.

  Brushing off the sadness that had now taken up residence in her mind and heart, Jordyn said, “Eleven days.”

  Cecelia frowned. “Not enough time, I think.”

  Cat shot Jordyn a look that was matched by Kim’s.
/>   Shut up, they screamed silently.

  Do not get her worked up about this.

  “Cecelia, we have got this handled,” Jordyn assured.

  Somehow.

  It was only after the girls were sure that Cecelia was too far from the kitchen to overhear them did they finally get to really talking.

  “Eleven days,” Catrina said to both Jordyn and Kim. “Christmas is five days after that. Eleven days.”

  “It’s a little last minute,” Jordyn agreed.

  Kim waved it all off. “Whatever. We’ll delegate some tasks. Each one of us can take a few things to do, and we’ll go from there.”

  “I like that idea.”

  Cat sighed. “Jordyn, take invitations because you’re good with design and colors and all that. Cecelia has a whole list of people with addresses. If you go to that shop in Manhattan, they’ll print them and customize envelopes with addresses the same damn day. You’ll have to personally mail them, though.”

  “What’s the name of the place?”

  Catrina rattled off the store name. Jordyn typed it into her phone.

  “Catering will be easier,” Kim pointed out.

  “I will deal with the caterer,” Cat said, “and I will handle some sweets. The least we can do is give Cecelia something homemade, from us, to have at the party. As much as she says she doesn’t mind—”

  “She does,” Jordyn and Kim said in unison.

  “Yep.”

  A few more minutes passed with the girls discussing which tasks were going to who. Once they were done, and satisfied they had this last-minute party handled, Jordyn stood from her chair, ready to get a start on everything.

  “By the way,” Kim said, looking at Jordyn over her shoulder, “how is Lucian doing?”

  “Okay.”

  Cat made a face as she shrugged on her jacket. “Missing his family, Dante said.”

  Jordyn swallowed hard. “Yeah, that too.”

  “When are you going to see him?”

  “Antony is supposed to take me and the girls up tomorrow. John hasn’t decided if he wants to go or not.”

  Kim frowned. “Every time he comes over to hang out with Giovanni and Andino, he looks so sad.”

  “He misses his dad,” Jordyn said. “A lot.”

  “Let us know if you need anything,” Catrina told her, “anything at all, Jordyn.”

  “I’m doing okay.”

  “Still. Let us know.”

  “Absolutely,” Kim echoed. “I can even take one of the girls, or both of them on a weekend, if you need a break or something.”

  “And you know Dante will be happy to take John,” Cat added.

  This was why Jordyn loved her family. Her world had stopped for a short time. Theirs kept moving. They still slowed down to remember her, her struggle, and her kids. It’s what family did.

  Or, it’s what their family did.

  December 10th

  “Daddy!”

  Lucian looked over his shoulder to see familiar, sweet faces coming his way. Liliana and Cella darted in his direction with matching red chiffon dresses, and shiny black shoes. Jordyn had the girls’ hair pulled into high ponytails with matching red bows.

  He barely turned in the bench before his girls were on him. Cella, his youngest, climbed into his lap. Liliana jumped onto the bench, then the metal table, and wrapped her little arms around his neck. She hugged for dear life, taking away his ability to breathe.

  Jesus.

  He didn’t even care.

  His kids were everything.

  “Daddy, I missed you!”

  Liliana’s arms tightened around his neck with her words.

  Cella was right up in his face. Her hazel eyes—eyes that matched his—were wide, clear, and happy. “Hi, Dad-day!”

  Somehow, he managed to deal with both his girls at the same time. A hand patting Liliana’s head, and a kiss to Cella’s cheek.

  “My girls,” Lucian said. “Ti amo, mia bella caras. Daddy loves you, my beautiful girls.”

  Jordyn had finally made her way across the visiting area as well. A soft smile played at the edges of her lips. Lucian looked up at her with a smile and a chuckle. Neither one of the girls had let him go yet, after all, so he couldn’t offer her much more.

  Unfortunately, the girls didn’t get to come to visit as much as he would like for them to. That was a decision made by both him and his wife. Jail was not a place for children. He was lucky enough that when his children did come to visit, the guards agreed to remove his cuffs for the duration.

  It saved them explanations to the girls, anyway.

  “Hey, bella.”

  Jordyn leaned down enough to give him a quick kiss. “Hey.”

  “No John?”

  Lucian really wanted to see his son. Despite what Jordyn told him on the phone to keep him from worrying about Johnathan, he knew his boy was having trouble. His behavior was already reckless enough for a kid his age, but conversations with his father and brothers let him know John was giving his mother hell.

  “No John,” Jordyn said with a shrug. “Backed out this morning. Giovanni came to pick him up before we left, said something about gelato and Christmas shopping.”

  Lucian scoffed. “Giovanni doesn’t Christmas shop. He hires someone to do that for him.”

  “Well, that’s what he said.”

  “John’s sad, Daddy,” Liliana told him.

  Lucian frowned, and patted his daughter’s head once more. “Yeah, I know, Lily.”

  “Santa will make him happy, right?”

  Jordyn’s gaze found Lucian’s, and he really wished they had the right answer for their girl. Neither of them said anything.

  What could they say, really?

  Cella saved the day by distracting them all. “I pees by myself now!”

  Lucian’s eyes stretched wide at her exclamation, and a laugh burst from his lips. Kids had no concept of privacy, or filters. Little milestones that their parents made big deals out of often became sentiments they repeated to others in public, so they too could share in the wonder.

  Being embarrassed was a part of being a parent.

  “Do you?” he asked her.

  “Only took three months,” Jordyn told him with a roll of her pretty eyes.

  “Only, huh?”

  “That, and a package of princess underwear she found at the store one day. She was determined not to mess in them. I wish I had known that trick years ago for the other two.”

  Lucian chuckled. “Maybe you’ll be able to use it once more for another at some point, dolcezza.”

  Jordyn gave him a look. “Ah, no. You’ve knocked me up enough times, thanks.”

  “Jord.”

  “Nope.”

  They had decided they were done having kids. Jordyn even had some weird looking birth control put in that was basically ninety-nine-point-nine percent effective. It could last up to eight years without anyone doing anything. Or it was supposed to, anyway.

  Lucian called that shit a lifesaver.

  He still might like one more.

  Another boy, maybe.

  But his principessas were perfect, too.

  Another girl would be fine.

  He just had to work on Jordyn …

  “Do you misses me, Daddy?” Liliana asked.

  Lucian’s attention went back to his oldest girl in an instant. “Of course, I miss you.”

  “Will you come home soon?”

  Jordyn plucked her daughter off the table, and sat down on the metal bench beside her husband. Liliana sat in her mother’s lap, and Cella rested happily in his. “Soon, Lily. Daddy will be home soon.”

  They were so young.

  They couldn’t possibly understand.

  Lucian supposed he knew why it was more difficult for John to come see his father. The boy was several years older than his sisters, and understood a great deal more about their current situation. He probably blamed his father for being where he was, and frankly, had every damn right to.
A conversation with his boy over the phone was easy—they could both pretend Lucian was not where he actually was. A face to face visit was not quite the same.

  At least, John had his uncles and grandfather for the moment.

  More lifesavers.

  “Daddy,” Cella said, turning in his lap to peer up at him again, “guess what?”

  “What, bambina?”

  “We has big Crit-mah tree.”

  “Really?”

  “Eva,” she said with a dramatic nod and big eyes.

  “Wow.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  Lucian looked to his wife with a grin. “And I bet Ma had so much fun putting that up, too.”

  Jordyn made a sound under her breath, and glanced upward. “Fun, right.”

  “The girls love it, though.”

  “That’s the only reason it didn’t go straight out the back door.”

  Lucian laughed.

  This was what he needed.

  A visit from his girls, and his wife. His mood was instantly better. His outlook finally improved. He probably wouldn’t see the girls again for a visit until after the holiday season, so he really just wanted to soak this one up for all it was worth.

  “Love you, Jordyn,” he told his wife.

  She smiled at him, reached out, and stroked his cheek with her palm. “Love you, Lucian.”

  December 12th

  Jordyn balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear as she dug the party invitations from her purse. They had all of eight days to get these invitations to the people who needed them. Of course, she didn’t think for a second that any person who got an invitation to the Marcello Christmas party would refuse, but they were kind of running short on time.

  With a stack of envelops in hand, she moved to the back of the line inside the large post office. Her sister-in-law chatted away in her ear.

  “He’s just …”

  “What?” Jordyn asked.

  “In such a mood,” Catrina muttered.

  “Really?”

  “I know, it’s not like Dante at all.”

  Not really, no. To outsiders, sure. Dante Marcello could come off as cold, aloof, and distant. It was his own way of protecting his family. To his wife, kids, and anyone inside their family? Dante was far warmer.