Page 104 of Luca
Aiden shrugged, flicking a glance at my husband who held Penelope. We had all moved on from Cassio’s manipulation, although it didn’t mean they were best friends.
“Are you ever going to give her to me?” he asked instead, glaring at Luca. “I’m her uncle. I’m supposed to spoil her, not you.”
“Ah, no, no, no, Nonno is supposed to spoil our little Penelope.”
“Everyone knows Aunt Áine and Uncle Cassio are the best spoilers,” my cousin mused. As much as I hated to admit it, I feared my brother was right and those two would be the worst. They’d already established a trust fund and showered Penelope with so much jewelry, it rivaled the Queen of England. And she was not even pushing one month on this planet. It would be years before she could wear any of it. It took everything in me not to roll my eyes every time they walked in the door with another package in their hands.
Luca was even worse. He’d already assigned which of his companies would go to Penelope. Apparently our daughter would be an oil heiress when she came of age. When I protested, he assured me he did the same for his nieces and nephews. It certainly wasn’t comforting, but it made me realize I wouldn’t win that battle.
“Pfft, Uncle Aiden is the best,” my brother drawled, beaming at the baby. “I’m going to teach you how to kill people and–”
A round of half-hearted groans filled the space.
I shook my head at them. If Tyran and Kyran were here, it’d be even worse. Poor Penelope would be passed around like a sack of potatoes. She didn’t mind it though. She loved her uncles and Aunt Áine who would give her a playmate soon. She loved Nonno. She loved her daddy the most.
It was our weekly Thursday family dinner at our penthouse with my brothers. Coincidently, it was also Thanksgiving. The holiday season was coming, and for the first time in a long time, I truly looked forward to it.
Aside from the traditional Thanksgiving dinner with turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, and pumpkin pies, I had prepared Nonno’s favorites tonight. Spaghetti Bolognese, the late Nonna’s recipe. Tiramisu. And of course, Greek salad. Not sure why not Italian, but Nonno insisted on the Greek salad.
Nonno has been staying with us but after the holidays, we’d leave for Sicily. Together.
“Have you gotten any updates on who’s seizing your shipments?” Aiden asked. It turned out the attacks on Nonno’s business - and I said that in quotations - expanded beyond him and to Luca now.
“No,” Luca grumbled, annoyed. “Nico chased all the leads and nothing. It doesn’t seem it has anything to do with Benito’s death.”
“Are you sure it’s not Marchetti?” Aiden questioned. “Maybe he holds a grudge after all. Uncle killed his brother. It’s hard to get over shit like that. I know I wouldn’t. Neither would my brothers.”
Cassio and Nonno shook their heads. “He’d have too much to lose. We are a good supplier of goods to him and make most of his profit.”
“We were making a nice profit too,” Luca grumbled. “Now we are taking money out of our purse to pay him until we figure out who’s stealing our shit.”
“Why don’t you have a chip installed into all of your shipments and then when someone steals it, you can track it?” All their eyes rose to me, pondering my words as I’d slid cookies onto a plate.
“Shit, that’s a good idea,” Aiden said. “That might make it easier to track, Luca.”
“I have the smartest wife.” Warmth unfurled inside me at his words.
“You sure do,” I agreed, grinning like a fool. Then I remembered, Nonno’s guard wasn’t here. “Is Guido joining us for dinner today?”
Luca shook his head. “No, he wanted to go check on a lady friend.”
Nonno chuckled. Luca and Cassio smirked. “Guido loves the ladies.”
Áine and I rolled our eyes, while Aiden whispered to Penelope that he wouldn’t let any boy close to her. On the inside, I was a melting, sighing mess with the happiness I felt.
It was at that moment that my other two brothers strode into the kitchen like a hurricane.Thud.
Happiness gone.
“Jesus, not with the bag of guns again,” I hissed, glaring at both of them with my hands on my hips. “Get that shit off my floor. You can’t have that crap laying around. Penelope will one day crawl, then walk, and she might get a hold of it.”
“She’s only a month old.” Tyran rolled his eyes, lifted the bag and put it on top of the empty counter. It wasn’t a much better place.
Aiden reached for a cookie and shoved it into his mouth. “Fuck, this is good.”
I beamed with pleasure, the bag of weapons forgotten. “Thank you, Brother.”
“You two put that shit in the closet somewhere and up on the highest shelf,” Luca growled. He was a good Pàpa. “If you're gonna keep lugging that crap around, I’m having an extra safe built and you’ll have to lock that up.”
