Page 50 of Jackpot Joker

“Oh, this is not…”

Dario quickly turns my face and presses a chaste kiss to my lips, silencing me. When he moves them from mine, leaving me thoroughly confused, he tucks my blonde locks behind my ear and whispers, “Not now, mio toro.”

I tilt my head in the direction of his father and see him assessing the two of us as though he already knows that what Dario is saying isn’t the truth. “Let’s eat.”

Looks like I know where Luca’s conversation skills come from.

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.