25. Chapter 25
Jasmine
Dinner is delicious. And abundant. I don’t think I could eat another bite after the multiple servings that have been brought out and placed on the long table where sixteen of us are sitting.
The discussion has been strange. I’m not entirely sure what casino owners and hoteliers would have transferred from one warehouse to another, or why they would need armed security at each station, but I won’t pretend like I know much about that scene.
I suppose people take their high thread-count sheets super seriously.
“Be sure you boys stop by and give your condolences for the loss of your cousin,” Salvatore says from the head of the table.
The patriarch of the family gives off the vibes of the men in the old mafia movies I used to watch with my dad.
It’s almost laughable how similar he is to the characters. He must be a big fan of the films.
My hand reaches out and squeezes Dario’s thigh, offering sympathy for the loss of a family member. I’m surprised he didn’t tell me about it, but then, Dario isn’t exactly one for serious conversations.
“Yes, Papa,” Gio says, and I watch the old man shake his head.
“Gone too soon, God rest his soul. It shouldn’t have happened.”
My heart aches for the stranger and all the people sitting at the table with solemn looks.
“I know, Papa. We’re looking into what happened.”
Salvatore snorts. “What happened is the boy took a bullet to the chest and then the head. You need to look at the why. Which one of you visited there last?”
I feel Dario stiffen underneath where my hand still lies. I don’t know why I kept it lingering there, but it feels wrong to pull it away now. “Me, Papa.”
“Figures.”
Dario’s father shakes his head as though he’s disappointed in his son, and it breaks my heart. I don’t know why Dario’s presence at the warehouse would have been the reason to get a poor man shot.
“Why does that figure?” I ask, and suddenly thirty-two eyes are on me. Dario puts his hand over mine, no doubt an attempt to silence me, but Salvatore takes the bait.
“Your boyfriend drives that fancy-ass car of his like he isn’t a fucking Caruso with people wanting to gun him down at any moment.
I give him armored vehicles, but nothing I can offer is ever good enough.
He’s easy to tail; people knew where he was, and we have a new widow and orphan in the family as a result. ”
Dario’s head hangs down, as though he’s defeated. Something churns in my gut, and the need to defend the usually arrogant man is so strong that I couldn’t hold back my next words if I tried.
“If his last name is the reason for people to want to come after him, I would imagine that’s your doing.”
Cold eyes, darker than his son’s, stare at me.
If I were a weaker woman, a whimper might spill from my lips like the barely-legal redhead sitting across from me, cowering behind her date.
Instead, my stare meets his as my shoulders move back, straightening my posture so this asshole doesn’t dare believe for one second that I fear him.
“The things I’ve done could give you nightmares, girl.” His voice is deep and makes the men in the room squirm in their seats.
I don’t squirm. I smirk. “The things you’ve done?
I highly doubt a man like you has ever gotten his hands dirty.
In fact…” I look around the room. “That’s what these men are here for, right?
Do your dirty bidding? And when one of them fucks up their job, you blame it on the only man in here with a heart. ”
The head of the family throws his head back, and laughter booms around the room. “A heart? My boy, I guess there’s something to be proud of you for, after all. You must dick this woman real well to have her believing a man in our family has a heart and soul.”
Laughter ripples through the rest of the so-called family except for Dario and his brothers.
Gio and Luca sit there with their heads down.
Dario’s eyes stare into mine, looking a shade brighter than usual.
This man is so much lighter than those who have raised him.
He does have a heart. A kind one. Sure, he’s annoying and pretentious, but he’s also caring and protective.
Two things I feel don’t seem to matter to the man he calls Papa.
“Mio toro,” Dario whispers, grabbing my hand. “Apologize and move on. I’m not worth it.”
His words are like a dagger to my heart. He is worth it. And I’m going to prove it to him.
I push back in my chair, allowing it to scrape the gorgeous hardwood floors, but I care less about the craftsmanship and more about standing up for the man beside me who refuses to stand up for himself.
Once standing, I cross my arms and glare at Salvatore Caruso.
“Do you have evidence that people followed Dario to the warehouse?”
The laughter ceases. Instead, there are small gasps and intakes of breath, but I refuse to back down, even when the man I’m questioning glares back at me. “Who are you?”
“Jasmine Baker.”
“She’s my date, Papa,” Dario says, repeating his claim from earlier.
Salvatore snorts. “Then control her.”
“I am not his date. I am his attorney, and without evidence, there’s no reason to accuse Dario of being the reason men were able to track your beloved warehouse or kill a member of your family.”
Salvatore narrows his eyes at me. “They chose you to replace Jim?”
My face scrunches. “Why would he need to be replaced?”
He laughs, a full, deep belly laugh. “Because the man is dead. Strangled. It was a careless act and one that could cost our family fortunes.” He focuses his cruel eyes on Dario once more as though somehow the sweet, funny man could be the reason behind another man’s death.
“I don’t appreciate you continuing to imply that Dario has anything to do with the death of these men. I may not be with some fancy firm, but I can assure you that if you can find the men who actually are responsible, then I can do everything in my power to help you seek justice.”
Dario’s father cocks his head and gives me a degrading smirk. “I don’t think you and I seek justice in the same way.”
I look around the table and truly see the people sitting around it. All but Dario, my fallen angel dressed in white, is in black attire. Most of the men have gold chains around their necks. Many have full, dark beards. And every single one of them is carrying a weapon.
My eyes find Salvatore’s again, and I shift my hands to my hips. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
“And how is that?”
“Hire me.”
Silence presses around the small space inside the car as Dario drives across town to my condo. I don’t think either of us expected that to be the route we took in securing me a position as the family’s attorney, but for some reason, Salvatore agreed to my demand.
I think I hate him. No, I definitely hate him. In fact, I’m not a big fan of anyone in the family, which I learned tonight did not only consist of aunts, uncles, and cousins, but also the capo—whatever the hell that was. Dario’s family runs the fucking mafia, and now I work for them.
So many questions were on the tip of my tongue as we got in the car, but when I glanced over at the defeated man beside me, I chose to keep quiet. The gorgeous smile I’ve come to see so much over the past month is completely absent from his handsome, yet downtrodden face.
When we pull into my complex, Dario surprises me by pulling up to the entrance and idling the car. He makes no attempt to get out, and I hate the way that hurts. “Are you not going to walk me inside? Make sure I’m safe?”
He exhales slowly. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
His words are soft, and I never realized how much I love the typical sound of his voice until the bounce in his words is no longer present. “How can you be sure?”
Dario leans his head back against his seat and closes his eyes. I watch as he fills his lungs with air and slowly releases it. “You seemed to have no problem standing up for yourself. If you can do it against my father, you can take on anyone.”
He opens his eyes and turns his head so he’s looking at me. “Good night, Miss Baker.”
My heart shatters at the formal use of my name. A lump forms in my throat, making my voice sound choked. “I’m sorry, Dario.”
When he looks away, saying nothing, I know he’s done with me. My hand shakes as I reach for the door, but I stop myself from opening it. Regardless of his dismissal, I decide I can’t leave things as they are between us. If he can be a pestering, persistent, pain in my ass, then by golly, so can I.
“Dario, talk to me,” I demand. “Yell at me. Tell me that I embarrassed you. That I put more strain on your relationship with your dad. But don’t shut me out.”
He looks at me, his eyes heavy. “You’ve wanted me to leave you alone since the day we met. I’m only trying to give you what you want.”
“I want your anger. I want your fire. I want your passion. I want you, Dario.”
His eyes flare, and I realize how my words came across.
Clearing my throat, I clarify, “I mean, I want the you I’ve gotten to know. I want the man who makes me smile, even when I’m trying to be stubborn. I want the man who makes jokes.”
“I am the joke.” Dario sounds completely defeated as he repeats the words his father fired at him earlier tonight.
I reach my hand across the console and place it on his lap. “You may be a joker, Dario, but you aren’t a joke.”
He stares down at my hand that is admittedly too close to something I would definitely want to explore if I didn’t want to jeopardize the already-strained working relationship we just created.
When his eyes look into mine, his tongue darts out over his bottom lip. “I’m in no mood to make jokes tonight.”
“Then what are you in the mood for?” I think about what my life has looked like since I moved out here.
As painfully embarrassing as it is to admit, Dario is honestly the only friend I’ve made in Vegas.
I consider what I would do if it were my girls out here with me.
“If you need me to listen, I have two ears waiting. If you need a hug, I suppose that can be arranged. Tell me what you want, Dario.”
Though only the streetlamps in the parking lot illuminate the interior of the vehicle, I can see his chocolate eyes smolder. “You, mio toro.”
My heart flutters as he calls me the two words I had to translate—my bull. “Then walk me upstairs.”