Page 52 of Twisted Kings

The woman was a grumpy old crone, but I quite liked her no-nonsense attitude. She said what she thought. There was no ambiguity, whereas other people often left me scratching my head, wary of offending because of a misunderstanding.

Today was Christmas Eve.

None of us felt like celebrating, but there was an unspoken agreement that we needed to put our game faces on. If only for Verity, who apparently loved pretty lights and all things sparkling.

One of Declan’s men had dropped off a large spruce tree yesterday, along with a box of decorations. Most of them seemed like they’d fallen off the back of a lorry, but it was the thought that counted. I had a feeling the unexpected delivery was Eden’s work since I highly doubted Declan Kelly gave a shit whether we had a nice Christmas.

Other than a terse phone call to Thea a couple of days after we arrived, letting her know she’d used up her one and only favor, we’d not seen or heard from the man. Still, it was good of him to let us stay. None of us knew what the New Year would bring, but I rarely worried about things I had no control over.

“What are you making?” Dario asked when he wandered into the kitchen. He had made a point of staying out of everyone’s way since we arrived. Why he’d stuck around was anyone’s guess, but I assumed it was safer here than anywhere else.

“A lamb stew for tonight’s dinner.” I shoved some sprouts in his direction. “Make yourself useful and peel those.”

“What the fuck are these?” From the puzzled look on his face, he wasn’t familiar with sprouts.

“Brussels sprouts. They’re an excellent source of potassium and Vitamin C.”

“Hmm…” He picked one up and examined it with suspicion. “I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Don’t worry, I’m making a lasagne for Christmas dinner tomorrow, as well as turkey and all the trimmings.”

“You are?” A look of surprise flashed across his face.

“Yes. I figured you and the girls might want something more familiar to eat on Christmas day.”

“Um, unless things changed the last few years, Thea’s never celebrated Christmas, so she won’t be expecting anything fancy.”

The knife I held slipped from my hand and clattered onto the table.

“What, never?” Now I was more determined than ever to make it nice for her. She deserved it.

Dario moved over to the coffee machine and switched it on. I watched as he ground some beans and waited for the machine to heat. The guy was obsessed with coffee. Even more so than Cassian, who lived for the damned stuff.

“No, Francesco isn’t exactly a family guy.”

“Shut up, Dar,” Thea snapped from the doorway. The furious look she threw at Dario was enough to cause a man’s balls to shrivel up and die. I was thankful not to be the target of her ire. “If I want people to know about my shitty life, I’ll tell them myself.”

“Just making sure Martha Stewart here gets the memo that you’re not a fan of Christmas. Would hate for him to slave over a hot stove for nothing.” The smile he gave her looked fake as fuck, even to me. Dario was desperate for her to throw him a bone, but so far, she’d mostly ignored him. Today’s little spat was the first time she’d spoken to him in days.

I carried on chopping carrots as he waited for the coffee to finish pouring.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel. All that matters is that Verity has a good day,” Thea said after a few tense moments.

“I always made sure you both had a nice day,” Dario replied in a low voice.

Thea turned to face him. “The gifts - they were from you?”

Gifts?

Dario nodded. “Yeah. Dad handed them to Mrs. Gia, who smuggled them into the house under Torrance’s nose.”

“Oh. I assumed…”

“You assumed they were from Mrs. Gia.”

“Yeah.”

He shrugged. “It didn’t matter who they came from. All that mattered was Verity had something to unwrap. I knew Mrs. Gia had no way to buy anything. Not with that fucker breathing down her neck all the time. So I bought a few things for her to give to Verity. She didn’t deserve to miss out because your father liked to pretend she didn’t exist.”

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