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Laz points at me. “You don’t even need to say it.”
“So let me ask you a question, Laz,” I say as I stuff more food into my mouth.
“Go for it,” he says.
“You’re a really good cook. So why are you here? Why do all of this? Why be anHeir? You can totally go to culinary school. Travel the world.”
Laz smiles. “That’s not how it works in our world, Jaci.”
“Ourworld?”
“You’re in this world now too,” Laz says.
“Oh.”
“I love to cook, Jaci. Doesn’t mean I have to become a famous chef. Can you see me on a reality show?”
“Yes,” I say. “Maybe I can.”
“That’s not what I’m meant to be.”
“So your life is designed in advance?”
“Sometimes that’s how it goes,” Laz says. “There’s a legacy. There’s work to be done.”
“Mafia stuff, right?”
Laz smirks.
“I just don’t get it,” I whisper.
“You will.”
“Maybe you’ll tell me about my family,” I say.
Laz grabs a spatula and points it at me. “Not a chance in hell.”
“Why not?”
“Not my business.”
“Bullshit, Laz.”
“Bullshit yourself,” Laz says. “There are two ways to see it here, Jaci. First off, if I tell you, then I become responsible for you. I don’t want that. Second off, the less you know, the weaker your family is. That’s better for my family.”
“Ouch,” I say.
“It’s not a lie.”
“Is that why Cullen won’t tell me either?”
“I can’t answer for Cullen,” Laz says.
I sigh. “You’re really quick and smooth too.”
“You should see me between the sheets,” Laz smiles.
“No thanks. Not interested.”
