Page 30 of Little Dove

His name pops into my memory. Urso. This is Lazaro’s youngest brother. It’s too dark for me to make out his looks, but from what I can see in the low light from the dashboard, he has the same dark eyes as his brother, yet there’s a boyish look about him when he smiles that way in the mirror. I can also make out that, like his brothers, he has a bit of a beard, but his is much thinner than theirs. Of course, he’s also as wide as they are, so I guess the giant gene runs in the family.

It kind of makes me wonder how the hell their mother pushed them out, because holy shit, that must have hurt.

The SUV moves in behind the one in front of us, and I wonder briefly if that’s where Rori is. Is Alonzo with her too? I almost hope not, because of how pissed he looked, but she’s a big girl and can handle herself.

“Don’t listen to him,cara.” Urso chuckles, bringing my gaze back to his in the mirror. There’s a kindness in his eyes, but it does nothing to settle my nerves. “He got all the brawns, but the good looks and brains, those skipped him and Alonzo altogether.”

“Fuck off,” Lazaro huffs.

“He’s cranky when he’s tired,” Urso explains with a wink back at me. “But don’t mind him, we’ll put him to bed and he’ll be right as rain once he wakes up.”

“If you say so.” I avoid looking at Lazaro, but my lips twitch when I hear him mutter something under his breath.

“Comedians, both of you. Urso, since you’re here, I take it to mean Papa and the others are as well?”

“Landed a couple hours ago. Everyone else is back at the house strategizing, and Alessio is doing everything he can to piss off Nico every time he opens his mouth.” He gives a low chuckle. “Zeno and I figured it was best to get out of the line of fire for a little while so we offered to come and grab you.” Then he winks at me in the mirror again. “And there is such prettier company to meet here, so I’d be a fool to stay home.”

I flush at the compliment, unable to help myself. Charm and sex appeal must be another family trait.

Lazaro snaps something in Italian, but Urso doesn’t seem the least bit concerned when he answers back with a laugh, sounding calm as a cucumber. I glance at Lazaro curiously, but his face is hard and gives nothing else away. Hmm, maybe he doesn’t get along with his younger brother as well as he portrays.

The rest of the drive is mostly quiet, other than Urso asking a few random questions now and then. His eyes light up when I tell him what I do for work. Though, I’m confused. Wouldn’t he know that about me since Lazaro does? But that thought flitters away when he suddenly exclaims, “Do you do men’s cuts? I’m in desperate need, and so is Zeno. The two of us didn’t have time to see our regular barber before we left, and though he’ll be jealous, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“I do. If you want me to cut yours, I’ll be happy to.” Maybe if I offer to do hair while I’m here, I won’t be bored out of my mind. Besides, when people come to see me at the salon, they like to talk, and they often divulge plenty of information without even realizing it. A fewbarberchair confessionalswill give me a good lay of the land.

And maybe even some ideas on how to get the hell out if things do go south.

“It’s a date!” Urso claims happily, then he laughs outright when Lazaro makes a low warning growl.

I turn my head to glare at him, but freeze when I see the look in his eyes. It’s pure possession, the kind that I both fear and long for. The last man who looked at me like that…

No, I’m not thinking about him. Or rather,them. That’s a rabbit hole of memories that I don’t want clouding my mind when I’m about to meet the people who hold my life in their hands, in one way or another.

I force myself to look away from him, turning to watch the buildings and city lights. They pass by in a blur, but even still, I can see now why they call it the city that never sleeps. People still dot the sidewalks despite the late hour, and there are a decent number of cars flying along beside and behind us.

It’s nothing like my small town.

When we finally pull through the gates that lead up to the largest mansion I’ve ever seen, my nerves come back full force. Holy fuck, this is where I’m going to be staying? I gawk at it, wide-eyed, taking in the gothic architecture, the circular driveway, and the guards patrolling. The moon hangs low overhead, adding to the ominous look.

Urso pulls up directly in front of the main door and announces, “Home sweet home. Please exit calmly, no pushing and shoving.” He laughs, and then hisses painfully when I hear something connect with his head. I turn to glare at Lazaro, who lowers his hand unrepentantly and simply climbs out, coming around to meet me when I open my door.

I look around to see if Rori and Alonzo are there, but Lazaro’s body blocks my view. I want to glare at him for that, but instead, he takes my hand and gently pulls me toward the front door. When we walk inside, my mouth falls open in shock. Holy shit, this place practically screams money.

We’re greeted by a large foyer, with a sweeping double staircase front and center. The floor is gleaming marble and practically sparkles, though that probably has something to dowith the black chandeliers dripping in diamonds overhead. The walls are lined with expensive art, and I see a hallway leading away in each direction, and then an additional one underneath the stairs.

It’s opulent, and the gothic vibe seems to be as much on the inside as it is on the outside. I’m utterly out of place.

“I’m taking Amara up to rest,” Lazaro tells his brother briskly as he pulls me toward the stairs.

“I think Papa and Pietro would like to meet her,” Urso reasons.

“They can meet her when she’s had time to rest,” he answers firmly. “We’ve been awake for over twenty-four hours. I’ve given my report to Alonzo; he can relay it, or it can wait until we’ve had some sleep.” Then he says something in Italian that has Urso laughing like he’s just said the funniest thing in the world.

This family is really strange. And now that we’re in the light, I can see that Urso certainly does look like his brother, though the ease of him is misleading. The light lets me see that this man is just as dangerous as his brothers, he’s just better at hiding it in the dark. I fight back a shudder. If they’re all like this, I can only imagine what their father and the Carusos will be like.

I’m grateful that Lazaro is insisting that I get some rest. I’m going to need my full wits to handle them all.

I don’t fight him as he leads me up the steps, then through a maze of hallways that I’m never going to remember, until we reach a set of wide double doors near the end of one of the long hallways. A full stained-glass window and set of stairs sits at the very end, and I briefly wonder where it leads before I’m being pulled into the room. Lazaro flicks on the light and locks the door behind us.

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