Filthy Marcellos: Legacy: A Legacy Prequel (5 page)

Chapter Nine

ANDINO

“Evening, Ma,” Andino greeted, bending down to kiss his mother’s cheek.

Kim gave her son a warm smile and a pat on his arm. “Your father is tinkering in the garage.”

“I didn’t come to see Dad,” Andino half-lied.

He had come to talk to Giovanni, but he always made time for his mother, too. Being an only child had allowed Andino all of his parents’ love and attention as he grew up under their watchful eyes. His father had been easygoing and fun, as had his mother.

They made for interesting parents, if nothing else. Andino had been allowed to experiment with life without expectations or demands weighing him down. He’d always had a confidant in his father, should he need to talk. He’d always had a supporter in his mother, no matter his decisions. Judgement held no place in his parents’ home and lives, and certainly not toward Andino or his choices.

Andino didn’t even remember having rules.

“Was that a new Lexus I saw out in the driveway?” his mother asked.

Andino moved to sit beside her on the couch, grinning wickedly. He had a taste for expensive things, cars most importantly. “Yeah.”

“You spoil yourself, Andino. Everybody always said we would be the ones to spoil you because you were an only child. I think they were wrong. You certainly didn’t pick up your love of expensive things from your father and me, as far as that goes.”

Chuckling, he rested back into the couch and let the familiarity of his parents’ home soak into him. “I have to spend all the money I make in some way, Ma.”

“How about on a girl?” Kim asked, smiling slyly.

“A girl?”

“Find one, marry her, and then you’ll have lots of more things to spend your money on, Andi. Things other than yourself. I think you’ll find spending your money on someone else instead of yourself is rewarding.”

“Ma—”

Kim clicked her tongue, stopping Andino before he could rebut her. “I want grandbabies someday, Andino. You’re twenty-eight, it’s time to settle down. Find someone to do that.”

“I don’t think you get it, Ma,” Andino said quietly.

“Oh?”

“No. I haven’t found anyone who makes me want to settle down. I won’t force it simply because you want grandchildren to spoil rotten.”

Kim smiled, but even the sight was sad. “I know.”

Sighing, Andino asked, “Do you regret not having more children after me? Maybe if you had, you would have some
bambinos
running around or something.”

“Not for a second.”

Kim hadn’t even hesitated before answering him. Her words came out frank and honest. Andino believed his mother. She had never even mentioned having more kids as he grew up. Neither had his father.

“Besides, your father would have lived his life in a constant state of panic had I birthed him any girls,” Kim added, laughing softly. “When you came along, Gio might as well have skipped off to the doctor’s office to make sure we wouldn’t have any more.”

Andino grinned, knowing that was probably true. “You’re terrible, Ma.”

“I only speak the truth.”

Kim tossed the magazine she was reading to the coffee table and gave all of her attention to her son. While his mother’s eyes were a slate blue, Andino’s were a forest green like his father’s. But in features, he knew he looked more like his mother. Where Kim was soft in her lines, Andino was the more masculine, shaper version. She often told him that he looked like his uncle Cody from Vegas.

Andino had never met the man, but it was only a matter of time before he eventually would. Cody Abella was the boss for the Vegas Cosa Nostra, after all. Giovanni was careful about keeping his son away from Vegas for as long as Andino could remember, although his father had never outright explained why.

He figured it had something to do with his mother. Like how she met his father. Andino wasn’t stupid. He knew how that happened.

People talked. 

“How is work?” his mother asked.

“Quiet, but busy like usual. Keeps me going.”

“And John?”

Andino remained passive at the question. “Are you asking out of concern for him as an aunt, or are you trying to pry information out of me for Dad?”

Kim smiled. “You’re too observant for your own good.”

“No, I just know you, Ma.” Andino shrugged, saying, “Dad can ask John how he’s doing if he’s worried about him. John was always closer to Dad than he was his own father, anyway. But honestly, he’s doing okay. He’s been home a few days and nothing has happened yet. He’s working and whatever. He’s got a lot to catch up on. Three years is a long time to be out of this game.”

Kim’s hand reached out and grabbed Andino’s wrist. She squeezed him tighter than he expected her to. “Don’t say that, Andi.”

“Hmm, what?”

“A game. Don’t call this a game. It has never been that, you know it. If you treat it like it is, then you’ll lose like the rest who treat it like that, too.”

Andino patted his mother’s hand. She worried too much about him, and always had. Kim had never actively discouraged her son to join Cosa Nostra, nor did she say a bad word to him when he’d started dipping his hands in the family businesses and mafia. Kim simply let him live and grow to be whoever and whatever he wanted or needed.

He loved his mother more for it.

She still worried.

“I’m good, Ma,” Andino assured.

“Good is not always safe,” Kim replied.

She was right.

“Where is this coming from, huh?”

Kim glanced down at her hands, avoiding her son’s gaze. “Nothing, Andino. Don’t worry about it.”

He wasn’t sure he could do that, now. Especially not with the fact she seemed like she was trying to drop the conversation altogether, and she still wouldn’t look at him. What was up with his mother?

“Ma?” Andino pressed. “What is it?”

Kim shook her head, looked up at him, and smiled. “Like I said, it’s nothing. I just want you to know something, Andino.”

“Sure, Ma.”

“I’m so proud of you. I always am, no matter what.”

Andino flashed her a smile. “I know.”

“I want to keep being proud of you, Andi.”

He straightened on the couch, surprised at her words.

“Why wouldn’t you be?” he asked.

Kim reached out and patted his cheek gently. “Just remember to follow the rules, Andino. It might not be what you want right now, but it could be the best thing for you someday.”

Andino blinked, more confused than ever.

“All right,” Andino murmured. “Follow the rules. I got it.”

“Good.” Kim stood from the couch and brushed her pant legs down. “Go find your father and tell him supper is almost ready. I wasn’t expecting you, but I’ll throw an extra plate on the table. Is casserole okay?”

“Anything you make is
perfetto
, Ma.”

Kim laughed. “You are just like your father. Too slick for your own good, and you know it, too, which only makes it worse. Why can’t you find a girl with all that charm of yours, huh? Draw her in, Andino. It’ll be worth it, I’d bet all my money on it.”

Andino didn’t think so, but he didn’t correct his mother.

“You just want grandbabies,” he said.

“I do,” she agreed, totally unashamed. “So get to work on that.” 

Chapter Ten

“Son of a whore,” Gio snapped.

Andino flinched when his father tossed a wrench across the garage with a flick of his wrist. The metal tool flung in the air until it embedded itself into the far wall. It wasn’t often that Giovanni Marcello turned physically violent, so it still shocked Andino, even at his twenty-eight years, when his father did strike out.

“Jesus,” Andino muttered. “Chill out,
Papà
.” 

Gio turned fast on his heel to face his son. “Evening, son.”

His father stuck his bleeding middle finger into his mouth and sucked on the digit.

“What happened?”

“Wrench slipped and busted my fingernail up,” Gio mumbled around his finger.

“Ouch.” Andino nodded back toward the garage door that led into the side of the house. “Ma is getting the table set for supper.”

“Good, I’m starving. And done trying to fix her fucking car.”

Andino cocked a brow, amused. “Since when do you work on cars?”

“Never.” Gio huffed when he pulled his finger out of his mouth and stared at the blackened bruise already beginning to form. “And this is exactly why. Stealing a car, no problem. Fixing something in it, probably not.”

“What’s wrong with the car?”

“I don’t know, it’s eating oil.”

Andino pressed two of his fingers into his temple. “I’ll take it to my mechanic tomorrow.”

“Or I could just buy her a new one,” Gio suggested, smirking.

“Or that. Whatever you want to do, Dad.”

“She was admiring your new Lexus, wasn’t she?”

Andino eyed his father. “Were you eavesdropping on my conversation with Ma earlier?”

“No.”

“Dad.”

Gio’s expression never changed once. “I said no. Stop asking me questions, son.”

The habit of giving his father respect first and foremost made Andino drop the conversation. Those were the only rules his father cared to enforce as Andino was growing up, and that was mostly because it had everything to do with living the Cosa Nostra way.

Honor.

Respect.

Dignity.

Family.

That was it.

Andino’s life could be summed up with four simple things.

“She did mention she liked the Lexus,” Andino said.

Gio rubbed his hands together. “Good, good.”

“She was also fishing for info on John. I had a feeling that was coming more from you than her, though. Ma doesn’t pry like that. You do.”

His father didn’t even look the least bit ashamed.

“He’s been avoiding calls the last couple of days,” Gio said. “It’s unusual when he ignores even my calls.”

“Not mine,” Andino replied. “And I see him every night when I get home. He’s still staying with me until he gets settled into his new apartment.”

“Lucian is worried.”

“John is thirty, Dad. Let him be an adult for once.”

Gio frowned. “You think it’s just that simple, do you?”

“A little bit of trust could go a long way where John is concerned. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Fine, trust,” Gio said heavily. “I’ll pass the message along to Lucian.”

Andino nodded. “And to Dante, too.”

“We worry.”

“You shouldn’t. He’s doing just fine. He’s working, reporting in, and keeping a low profile like Dante told him to. John is following the rules … for once. Maybe he’s putting a distance between him and his father because John is still trying to figure out how to breathe outside of prison. Give him some time, Dad.”

Gio crossed the space between him and his son. His right hand came to rest on Andino’s shoulder as he passed, the weight of it heavy but familiar.

“You always were good in that way, Andino.”

“What way?”

“Family, you know. Taking care of everyone. You’re good at it. It’s going to carry you for the rest of your life, son. It’ll take you somewhere—this person who you are. It’s more than just a duty to you, even if you don’t realize it. I’m just not sure if it’s something you want, too.”

There it was again. Like his mother had, now his father was making vague comments about shit that made absolutely no sense.

Andino turned with his father to walk toward the door. “Someone raised me like this, Dad.”

Gio smiled. “I know. What did your mother make for supper?”

“Casserole.”

“She makes the best casserole.”

She did.

“She was pestering me about something else, too,” Andino said, opening the garage door for his father to step inside the house.

“About what?”

“Settling down. Kids. The normal nonsense.”

“Andino—”

“I get it, but it’s getting old. Ask her to lay off for a while, okay?”

Gio stood in the doorway with his son, glancing down the long hallway where Kim was likely still getting the table ready. She couldn’t hear their conversation from where they were standing. Andino was grateful. He didn’t want to hurt his mother, but he did need her to back off.

“I love Ma,” Andino said.

“I know you do,” Gio replied quietly.

“But I’m not at that point, and I can’t suddenly be there just because she wants me to be, Dad. I’ve got no interest in marrying someone anytime soon or playing house. I’ve got far more important things to worry about.”

Andino was a Capo—Cosa Nostra came first, always. For him, love and forever didn’t factor into that at all. Not right now. Maybe someday, but his immediate plans didn’t include that nonsense. He had businesses to run, a crew to manage, and money to make. He lived fast. No way in hell was he about to slow that all down for a woman.

“I know that you have a lot to worry about other than settling down,” Gio said.

“Then ask her to back off a little.”

Gio stared at Andino for a while before he said, “I don’t know how you came from me, son.”

Andino’s brow lifted high. “Why not?”

“We’re just different, you and I.”

“I can’t be like you and Ma.”

Gio nodded once. “No one is asking you to be, Andino.”

“Good.”

“You can’t be us, Andino, because you’re already too much like someone else, son.”

What in the hell was that supposed to mean?