Mafia in Death - an In Death series fanfic (J.D. Robb)

Chapter 11

Eve suggested the newly established Italian restaurant to Don Miguel, not because it was near to the Central but because it was owned by Roarke.

The maître knew Eve, so even though she didn’t book in advance, she still got the best spot. She didn’t even bother to look what’s on the menu and ordered a plate of pepperoni pizza and bologna pasta right away.

“I’ll go for water. I’m on duty.”, she told the waiter, then looked at the Don who sat at the opposite side. “Remember, you’re paying this.”

“Of course.”, he replied, then ordered a double-layered lasagne and tiramisu. “It’s either you’re very frequent at this place, or you’re starting to get used to a socialite life that you could carry yourself like this.”

“I’m not sure how many years it would take me to master the ‘glamorous way of life’, as what people often said. I don’t even think someone like me would be able to fit in that world.”, she shrugged.

“You fit perfectly well, Lieutenant. You carry yourself as an exemplary corporate wife for Roarke, and at the same time, a role model for all women. I don’t think you need to change yourself. You’re good as you are.”

Eve mused. “I don’t think so, Don Miguel. Roarke is an epitome of every men’s dreams, and as a person who have some contribution in his success, you must be expecting that he’ll marry someone that matched his profile.”

“You’re degrading yourself too much, Eve.”, the Don chuckled. “In fact, I’m glad he married a woman which was way different from the others he encountered. Believe me, he’s just using them like a sort of trophy in social gatherings. You?  He carries you with too much pride, not a trophy though, but a symbol of how life was in his favour.”

He sipped his wine on his goblet. “That’s why you can’t blame anybody who’s close to him to be wary at you first, because anybody could see that by a mere snap of your finger, you can bend his knees.”

Then she remembered the actuations she often received from Summerset, and a comment she once received from Sinead. “I’m not that kind of person. I don’t control him.”

“I know. That’s why we’re fussed with him. He’s too damn lucky.”

She luckier, Eve thought.

“Why don’t you tell me all about that lucky Irishman, and what kind of man he was before.”

The Don’s grin widened. “Then it’s better if I’m going to share you some things that that Irish bastard won’t even talk to other people, and secrets that I bet you’ll begin to see him in a different light.”

Roarke received a memo from Eve’s private ‘link about her lunch date with Don Miguel. At first he finds it quite threatening, slight disturbing, but he convinced himself that he’s pessimist about the situation.

Mira had advised him that he’s starting to become overprotective towards Eve – well, who couldn’t blame him? He had seen her worst, and seeing her broke down last night was too much for him to bear.

“Anybody would have that kind of reaction if their loved ones got hurt.”, Mira told him, “But sometimes, we tend to go overboard, and too much is unhealthy. You’re about to enter that stage, Roarke, and you have to be aware that instead of being an anchor to your partner, you unsettling her. This might be due to your childhood experiences of abandonment, of neglect. No one was there when you need one, so you did everything by yourself, and because of that familiarity, your protective instinct kick in. But try to look at this way – if you grew up of having somebody helped you, spoon-fed you in order to reach that pedestal you’re in now, would you be the same Roarke that we know, the one that’s independent and reliable?”