Page 66 of Unfettered

She turns back to face the rest, and I’d feel pity for them, but the fuckers deserve everything she dishes out. I’d stay behind to back her, but the longer I linger, the more it’ll fuck with her plans.

As I stride away, I struggle to force the discomfort to disappear. Because I certainly can feel the hatred rolling off Gerald, and several of the others. Not that I give a shit, but still. I definitely need to keep an eye on them.

“I’ll have Leandro start watching them,” Tennant murmurs to me, and I sigh in relief. That’s a great idea, and if Tennant asks, Leandro might actually do it, whereas I only trust him to set me on fire. The fact I’m still alive astounds me regularly, living with him.

By the time we make it into the public area, Aldo is waiting for us. His face lights up at the sight of me, and he pulls me into a hug. It’s uncomfortable, but I resist the urge to pull away.

“Good, all taken care of? Sarah is safe? Do I need to have someone come and deal with anything?” His rapid questioning amuses me.

“Everything has been handled. Yes, Sarah will be fine. And no, not a drop spilled.”

“Good. Now, let’s get you something to eat.” With that, he herds me toward a booth that’s all set up, with two plates covered by domes and sparkling water that's been poured into his signature crystal goblets.

“Thank you,” I respond as I sit down, trying to be patient with him. “You know you don’t have to feed us, right?”

He stares at me, horrified, before sadness crosses his face. “You’re family. Of course, you’ll eat here. Now, I was unsure what your guest likes, but I started with an Insalata di Pesce. If you have any allergies, please speak up.”

When Tennant doesn’t say anything, he takes off the dome with a flourish, presenting us with a feast of mixed seafood and assorted vegetables. The dressing is light, likely just the basics—olive oil, lemon juice, and spices. The family tries to showcase fresh food done simply, but beautifully. Aldo made the final push in that direction, and it has certainly paid off.

“Thank you, Aldo. This looks amazing.”

“Excellent. I’ll bring your second course in a bit.” With a cheerful smile, he almost skips away. I bite back a sigh at his exuberance, uncomfortable with it as always.

“He calls you family?” Tennant asks as he spreads out his napkin on his lap before taking a bite.

Shifting awkwardly, I explain the circumstances, adding, “But my grandfather and father didn’t interact with them as family. I really don’t know much about them. I check in regularly, and keep trying to give them the restaurant back, but…”

A slight stress headache pushes at me. It's more just a general unhappiness, which is why I prefer to avoid this place. I don’t, simply out of duty. Stabbing a lovely grilled scallop, I try to focus on the beautiful plate in front of me, and not my fucked-up family. Maybe it’s not a bad thing the Martellis are gone…

“Hmm… So despite your grandfather being an ass, your grandmother’s family understands it shouldn’t be held against future generations. And since you extended a courtesy, they decided they’d rather have a tie to you.”

I blink. It can’t be that simple, can it? Chewing a piece of shrimp, I think over the interactions I’ve had with this family. Whenever my father was around, there was a strained formality. But around me, they act much less restrained. Huh.

“I…guess so?” My mind still can’t process it. I have a feeling this is something I'll need to discuss with Brannigan, because the idea that I’ve had family that may have actually cared this entire time is…disturbing.

Tennant reaches over and grabs my hand, squeezing it. It gives me the perfect moment to just breathe. To remember that he’s here, and I can lay down control for a moment. Fuck. It’s… I have no words.

We’re still holding hands and quietly chatting when Aldo comes back to switch out our plates. One of the waiters grabs the empty plates, and another pours more water since we declined anything else. Only then does he put down our newest course.

“Ragù di agnello,” he states with a flourish. “And perhaps a dessert course as well?”

He sounds so hopeful that I hesitate, and nod toward Tennant for him to make the decision. I’m simply too tired to think about things anymore tonight. Not with the emotional roller coaster I’ve been on.

“That would be great,” Tennant responds smoothly, squeezing my hand.

With a bounce in his step, Aldo leaves. The lamb in the dish is cooked perfectly—as expected. Truly, this became a premier place for a reason. One I had nothing to do with.

With a soft snort, I break the comfortable silence between us. “Are you going to let Jude know you had lamb for dinner?”

“Of course, I’ll let Agnellino know.” His wicked grin has me shaking my head.

I love that they have the type of relationship where they can joke. It makes me hopeful for Antonio. That he’s finally found his place. I could never provide him with a romantic love, but I gave him what I could.

“What are you thinking?” Tennant asks, his eyebrow raising slightly, as if he knows I won’t want to answer. It’s an early warning, I swear.

And he’s right. I don’t want to answer. Shifting uncomfortably, I shrug one shoulder while taking another bite of the pasta, savoring the slightly spicy sauce. When I finish my bite, I still haven’t thought of a genius response, so I respond reluctantly.

“Jude…struggles with me.” I immediately cut off any argument by saying, “I can tell. He’s uncomfortable with me. And doesn’t like me. Or trust me. I’m wondering if it’ll make things difficult if I'm trying to help out.”