Page 37 of Lucian

When the apartment door was shut and the two deadbolts were locked, Jordyn stepped out of her hiding place. “Why Skip?”

Lucian crossed the space to grab up the envelope on the coffee table. Jordyn was right in her assumption that it held cash. He answered her while he flipped through the bills, counting how much was there. It was a lot.

“It’s another street term for capo in our business. I prefer it to my real name, really. It keeps a distance between them and me. When they talk about me out there, it’s always what the Skip says. It’s never Lucian. Most of them don’t know who is running them above their boss, honestly. They never meet me, and instead, only hear of the Skip who will and has stepped in to clean house when needed. The unknown breeds fear. Fear breeds obedience. Obedience breeds a good crew. Therefore, I need them afraid.”

Huh. That was kind of brilliant.

“It was one of the first things my father taught me about being a good capo,” he finished quieter. “Gio is probably the best at it, really, and he’s more than earned being known as the Skip with his guys.”

“And you like this?” Jordyn asked.

“It’s in my blood. What my real father did, and what my family does. A great deal of our money comes from bigger venues and deals, but we keep crews on the streets to remind people of where the power is coming from. Gangs might assume they’re running the show, but most of them are buying the majority of their products from families just like mine.”

She learned a lot about Lucian Marcello over the last week and a half. If she asked, he would explain to the best of his ability. Honesty was clearly something Lucian kept in high esteem, or maybe it was just for her. Bit by bit, she was learning more about the mafia world of his. It was not the same as the MC, of that, Jordyn was most sure.

His brothers came and went without question. Despite being rowdy, they were always respectful to her. His mother had been there twice, bringing Jordyn loads of clothes, products, and entertainment, most of which still were in the bags with tags and receipts because some of the costs frightened her.

His adoptive father Antony, on the other hand, Jordyn had yet to meet face to face.

“You didn’t really answer me, though. Do you like it?”

Lucian gave a throaty laugh. “I’m not a good person, sweetheart. I like money and I don’t particularly care how it is I make it. I don’t go out of my way to do good deeds for others. This profession suits me just fine.”

“You’ve been good to me,” Jordyn challenged.

“It’s not the same.”

“Why not?”

Lucian tossed her a look that heated up Jordyn from the inside out. That’s all he needed to do, just glance at her. She learned Lucian’s eyes spoke a lot more than his mouth did, even when he was talking. Out of the three Marcello boys, it was clear he was the quietest, but likely the most dangerous.

When he watched her, and he did it often, it was unsettling. Under his heavy stare, she thought maybe he was seeing more than he let on. The man had seen her naked, helped dress her injuries day after day, and touched her to soothe her when she fell into a panic over something mundane, but he didn’t look at her like he did any of those things, or seen her that way.

Lucian stared at her like he wanted to. It sure as hell felt that way.

Even if his interest in her wasn’t so blatantly written in the things he did, Jordyn was positive she would know it was there. Something was, anyway. The closer he was, the stronger it became.

Jordyn wanted this man. That scared her for a multitude of reasons.

It scared her even more that she didn’t want to fight it.

“Why not?” Jordyn asked again.

“Because, it’s just not, bella.”

“I know what that means, Lucian,” she told him.

“Good. I can safely assume you’re learning, then. That only benefits us both, sweetheart.”

Jordyn didn’t quite know what to say to that, so she decided to change the subject. “I need a shower.”

Lucian cleared his throat, scratching nervously at his neck. “Can you keep the door open?”

“What, why?”

“Because I don’t like the thought of having to open it again only to find you unconscious in the bathtub for any reason. At least if the door is open, I can hear you call for me, or whatever. Just … please keep it open for my peace of mind.”

Well, how in the hell was she supposed to say no to that?