Kiss de La Notte - Book III (Mafia Romance)

Chapter Three: Lucius

Lucius La Notte.

His features were different in the light, though he was still rugged-looking, a little rough around the edges, like he'd been in a quite a few fights, and I could now clearly a knife scar contouring his one cheek in a mean slash. Although I was certain this man had no problem with the ladies, he was not my type by a longshot. While he was harsh on the eyes and a little frightening, I wanted soft and kind in a partner.

As I scrutinized him, Lucius' eyes lazed their way around the kitchen, before their bold hazel depths connected with mine. Although I wasn't drooling on the floor after him, I did feel a little breathless as his lips turned up a little to one side.
"Korinna," my father responded to my silence, his voice suggesting I behave. "Lucius is here to talk to you."

I set my bowl of pasta down a little too quickly on the counter and it teetered, nearly falling to the floor, before Gemma came lunged to the rescue and grabbed it and right it onto the counter.

Please tell me that did not just happen.

I straightened myself with feigned confidence as if it didn't and directed my words toward my father. "I thought you said he was coming tomorrow?"

When I'd conveniently camp out at the library until forever.

"Tonight was a little better for my schedule," Lucius answered.

I dared to look him briefly in those deceiving pretty eyes. "Hardly recognize you without your pitchfork."

My father gave me a cross look, turning toward our guest with an apologetic expression. But Lucius lifted a tattooed hand out of his pocket and raised it an unconcerned way.

"No worries," Lucius said, his eyes still on me. "I have heard these jokes all my life. Have I come at a bad time, Korinna? I see you're eating."

What a phony idiota. "How considerate of you."

Never had a sentence come out so sarcastic from my mouth. Like he cared if I was eating or not. He hadn't considered how I'd feel about a fucking arranged marriage with him. In my peripheral, I could see my father was absolutely astounded by the way I was talking to Lucius, and honestly so I was I. I hated disappointing my father. But I also just hated my father in general right now and didn't care.

Gemma crossed the kitchen to my father and touched his arm, steering him from the kitchen. "Let them talk it out," I could hear her mutter.

Once alone, Lucius leaned back onto the counter behind him and sipped his drink, the large circular ice cube in the tumbler clinking a little against the glass. "Interesting scar," I said, not bothering to hide my loathing of him already. "Did you get that in a game of legal patty cake?"

His eyes swept loosely over my outfit of black leggings and a vintage faded lavender oversized pullover sweatshirt. "I didn't know there was an illegal game of patty cake. Can you teach me?"

"Depends, do you want this bowl of gnocchi in your face?" I countered, unable to reel in my next words before they came tumbling out. "Or was my gun enough?"

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "You sure now is a good time to talk? You seem preoccupied. I wouldn't want to bother you if you're otherwise engaged." I didn't miss the taunting flash in his eyes.

I feigned a laugh, my eyes skirting to the door where my father had just left with Gemma. "You know, I think we should talk somewhere else. Somewhere private."