Page 97 of The Devil Can Be Kind

“How surprising,” I drawled and he smiled. I helped myself to some white wine.

“Did you come to Italy a lot when you were younger?” He asked, serving himself a bit of everything.

“We visited Rome a few times because we have family there, but only every few years,” I answered around a mouthful of spinach and mushroom risotto. “Did you come to Sicily a lot?”

“Yeah. My Nonni were always out here so we would stay with them for three months every year.” I recognized the Italian word for Grandparents.

“Must have been lovely growing up and coming home so much,” I murmured, popping another piece of food into my mouth.

“It was alright.” I heard the reservation in his tone though. “When my father died my mother came home for good. She lives in her childhood home now with my aunt.”

“Do you come to visit her often?” I asked, wanting to pull him away from the darkening expression coating his face.

“Not as often as I would like.” He took a swig from his tumbler and looked away.

“Well, we should make a habit of coming here, then,” I said with an enthusiastic smile that faltered the second I realized what I’d said. I blushed and looked away.

In my periphery I could see Marco’s expression fall from humor to unreadable in a flash. Whatever he was thinking, he seemed to recover after another moment.

A smile pulling at the edges of his lips. “You’ll see her at the wedding tomorrow. She’s excited to meet you.”

I stopped mid chew and felt my brows raise.

She must hate my guts.

The sad thing was I didn’t blame her. What my father had done to her husband went against everything that the Cosa Nostra stood for.

“What’s wrong, Ada?” Marco immediately asked, picking up the shift in my mood.

“Nothing. I just…You’d tell me if she was going to kill me, right?”

The belly laugh that erupted from him made me jolt in surprise.

“I’m glad my imminent death amuses you so much,” I muttered, scowling at his reaction having asked the question without an ounce of humor.

He sobered up quickly with that. “On the contrary. I find it amusing that you believe my mother capable of killing you.”

I rolled my eyes. “I can’t say I blame her for hating me.”

I also hated myself for having Mannino blood in my veins. Even if that wasn’t exactly something I could control.

“My mother does not hate you.” His words were confident and final.Truthful. “She is…curious about you actually.”

“Curious?” I asked.What the hell is there to be curious about?

“I’m sure she’ll tell you about it tomorrow.” He said dismissively, grabbing a lobster tail and pulling the steaming meat out from its shell.

Ihad no idea what he meant, but I suddenly felt nervous at what tomorrow might hold. We ate in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again.

“How are you enjoying Diamond City?”

“I’m loving it.” A genuine smile pulled at my lips. “There’s still loads for me to learn, but I think I’m getting there. I get on with all my colleagues, and Keeley, my assistant, is great.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. I’ve heard nothing but good things about you.” That took me by surprise a bit.

I smiled at the compliment and finished the last bite of my food.

Seeing I was finished, Marco got up and approached the side table laden with different desserts. He looked somewhat uncomfortable as he clapped his hands together and turned to face me.

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