"Haven't you learned by now? I don't wait for anyone," I reminded him, reaching for my fork.
I liked Gio. He'd been the first to truly consider me part of the family. Even before the DNA tests came back. I believe his exact words were: With those dimples, there's no need for a DNA test.
He was also the first to start giving me a hard time like any normal brother gave any normal sister. As if we'd been raised together instead of only just meeting.
I'd never reached that level of closeness with Ciro. Or our other two brothers.
"Well, ain't that the fucking truth," Gio said, then turned his attention to the waitress as she moved back to the table. Drawn, no doubt, by the Morelli Magnetism. That was the only way I could describe the impact these men had on women. Without trying. Just by existing.
Though, when Gio shot that big smile with those boyish dimples at her, I swear the woman flushed like a schoolgirl.
"Alright," Gio said after they all had ordered. I didn't bother to ask where the other two were, why they weren't a part of the family meeting. I figured our father wanted Gio around to play my buddy, and Ciro to play the hardass. He didn't want to have the others around to make me feel like I was being ganged up on. Which, make no mistake, I absolutely was. "Where were we?"
"Alessa is upset that Santiago wasn't a part of the Family until recently," Ciro supplied.
"Santi wanted out to give his kid a normal life," Gio said, shrugging.
"So, what, now he doesn't want it to have a normal life?" I asked.
"He," Ciro corrected. "The child is a he, not an it."
"I think shit changes when you've got your wife's blood splattered all over your face," Gio said, shrugging. "He wants revenge. He knows he can't get it unless he's on the inside. So he got back on the inside. What's the big deal?"
"How does anyone know he can be trusted?"
"He's blood, Alessa," our father insisted.
Blood didn't get me in, didn't give me trust.
Only a penis did that, apparently.
Ugh, I was getting sick of that bitter taste on my tongue. But nothing could seem to wash it away.
"Look, I know Enzo," Gio said, shrugging. "He's a good boss. He's not all hopped up on ego like his old man. He uses his head. If he says Santi can be trusted, then Santi can be trusted. We have no reason to doubt that."
"Fine," I said, sighing as I swirled some spaghetti. "But I really don't see why anyone is coming to me with the idea of having me be a nanny. Have you met me? What is there about me that screams warm and soft and fuzzy? Don't worry. I'll wait," I said, waving at myself.
"I think a cactus is softer," Gio said, giving me a smirk when I reached out to slap him behind the neck. "Hey, you asked."
"They aren't looking for a nanny per se," Ciro said, shaking his head. "They need someone there, yes. To supervise. But he isn't a small child. What they want is someone who is there but is also aware. And would know how to handle a situation if it went south."
"Doesn't Lorenzo have a million bodyguards to choose from?"
"They wanted a woman," our father said, shrugging. "Makes sense. He lost his mom."
"And, what? They think a bodyguard with a pair of tits is going to replace her?"
"Language," my father scolded under his breath.
"Gio talked about banging a stripper in the ass through a car window at dinner last week, and you're going to pull the language card on me?" I asked, brow arching up. "Do I need to tell Denise on you?" I added.
My father's wife, my half-brothers' mother, and my step-mom, had taken a lot of shit. From all the men in her life.
Ironically, me showing up as the ultimate slap in the face to her, the evidence of her husband's infidelity, had finally given her the stones to start putting her foot down around her own damn house.
Alright, fine. I coaxed that shit out of her little by little, day by day, but it needed to be brought out. She needed to find her backbone. And knock these men on their asses when they stepped out of line.
She'd been rough on her husband ever since.
From what I could tell, the man never touched any woman but his wife again.
And let's just say, I kept an eye.
"I think they just figure a woman might be a more comforting sight right now," Gio said, only giving me half of his focus because he was eye-banging a long pair of legs that were walking past. "You know, since the kid is grieving."
"It's an honor," our father insisted again.
"It would only be an honor if there were a hundred other candidates, and I was the chosen one. I'm the only option. It isn't an honor. It's an obligation."