Page 24 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

Andino blinked. “No?”

“No.”

“A lot of us figured it would be you to do that, John.”

Oh.

“Me, too,” John said, chuckling, “a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

John shook his head. “They’re making the right choice, Andi.”

Andino glanced down. “I didn’t ask for this, John. I woke up being a very content Capo, and good at what I do. It’s what I wanted to do, and they just shoved this at me. Like here you fucking go, so be thankful.”

“You’re the right choice. You already look out for this family like it’s your first job, anyway.”

“Family first,” Andino said, nodding.

“God is a very close second.”

So was the Marcello way.

“Johnathan.”

At the sound of his mother’s sweet voice, John’s anxiety slipped away. It wouldn’t last for long, he knew, but he enjoyed it while he could.

Bending down, he kissed Jordyn’s smiling cheek. “Hey, Ma.”

Jordyn’s blue gaze took a silent inventory of her son. “You look well.”

“I looked well when I was here a couple of weeks ago, too.”

“Mmhmm, but you don’t come over often enough for me to make sure you are always well, John.”

“Ma,” he said quietly.

Jordyn waved a hand as if to dismiss what she had said. “Never mind. It’s just me thinking out loud.”

John offered his mother a hand to help her up from the couch. He followed behind her as she headed for the kitchen. His mother’s favorite room in the entire house. Despite all her efforts to teach him how to cook, John still sucked.

Jordyn checked the casserole in the oven as she said, “I didn’t know if you were coming today or not, but I made you chicken and salad—all organic, John.”

He smiled, and moved closer to wrap one arm around his mother’s shoulders. He pulled her in for a quick hug because his mother always took care of him even when it was no longer her job to do so.

“Thanks, Ma.”

Jordyn patted his cheek. “I know you have problems to work out with Lucian, but won’t you come visit me more often? I’ve gone three years only seeing you occasionally, and it was always behind a Plexiglas window. The least you could do—”

“I will come visit you more often.”

Her smile bloomed in to a brilliant sight. “That’s my boy.”

Thirty years old, and he was still a boy to his mother. He would blame it on the fact they were an Italian family, and the old saying about Italian mothers and their sons, but he couldn’t. His mother’s heritage sported maybe a twenty percent Italian bloodline—unlike his father’s three quarter bloodline.

Still, Jordyn fit the bill perfectly.

“What are we talking about visits, now?” Lucian asked from the kitchen entryway.