Page 70 of His Passerotta

“You think someone would risk their life over steak?” he asks, incredulous humor in his voice.

“You would be surprised,” I say, although I’m lying. He’s right, his name is enough to keep the thieves away. He could leave the door unlocked, and it’s still unlikely any of them would come in here. Obviously, my brother’s crew is an outlier.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll have a locksmith come by tomorrow.”

“What about a camera?” My voice goes high-pitch, and I swallow. I probably shouldn’t even bring that up. If he were to catch Corey on it…

“No cameras.” He guides me into the kitchen and squeezes my hips before going to the walk-in. “There are things I wouldn’t want recorded.”

I lean against the metal counter and cross my arms over my chest. “Like what?”

He disappears inside the walk-in without answering my question, then returns with a piece of wrapped meat. He rests it by the stove and goes about getting ingredients. My stomach rumbles, but I ignore it.

“You’re really not going to answer me, huh?” I ask.

He looks up from the meat he’s seasoning and raises a brow.

“Never mind,” I say, waving my curiosity away.

He pulls out a pot and fills it with water before setting it on the burner to boil. “I’m tired of talking about me. I want to know more about you.”

My skin crawls with unease. We spent a good chunk of the drive with me asking him questions about his life, and him happily telling me stories about his family, always straying from anything work related. It became obvious that he values family as much as I do, which is huge for me. The more he talks, the more he reveals himself to be everything I’ve hoped for.

But what if he doesn’t feel the same about me? What if I’m a letdown?

Once he’s sprinkled salt in the water, he starts cooking the chicken.

“What do you want to know?” I ask, trying to hide the apprehension from my voice.

He shrugs. “Was it hard taking care of your brother when you were just a kid yourself?”

My muscles tense at the mention of Corey, and I have to clear my throat before I can speak. “You mean after my mom died?”

He nods.

“No,” I say automatically. “I’d been taking care of him since he was born.”

He goes back to the chicken. “That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“Responsibility I wanted.”

He glances at me over his shoulder while my face reddens. My tone was too sharp. We’re just talking, but every time he brings up Corey, I feel interrogated. Guilt will do that.

“You’re extremely protective of your brother,” Anthony observes, using tongs to flip the chicken. “I like that.”

“Yeah, snapping at you every time he’s brought up… Real sexy.” I chuckle, but my nervousness overpowers the little humor. My nails run up and down my arm.

“Family means everything to me,” he says, starting on the sauce. “It sounds like it means everything to you too.”

“It does.” My chest deflates as I let out a breath. “It’s the only thing that matters. Familial love is the only kind that’s real.”

“What?” He laughs, turning to face me.

My mouth stays shut. He’s looking at me like he thinks I’m crazy, but I’m honestly surprised he doesn’t feel the same. He’s an incredibly handsome, powerful man. He could’ve been married a decade ago if he wanted to be.

Anthony’s head tilts. “Do you really believe that?”

I lift a shoulder.

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