Page 44 of Vicious Impulses (The Capo and Ballerina)
“She is a pain in my ass,” he says so candidly, I laugh. He swallows a bite of the braised pork he’s eating and gives a shrug. “But she knows she is. She’s an important confidante. I trust few people. She is one of them.”
“You’ve known her a long time?”
“All my life.”
My brows jump slightly. “Oh, that explains a lot.”
“Such as?”
“It’s just…” I pause to choose my words carefully. “You two have a mother/son vibe.”
“She raised me more than my mother did. So that would be accurate.”
“Where is your mother?”
“I don’t know, Nevi. Nor do I care.”
“Oh.”
He sips from his wine glass and then nudges his knee against mine. “But don’t feel bad for asking. It’s natural to be curious.”
“My curiosity so far has gotten me into trouble.”
“I have been… impatient. I have been very… agitated with you at times,” he answers, the outline of his jaw even more distinct from the tension it’s holding. “I have realized that perhaps a different approach is best. It takes time to adjust. This has been a big adjustment for you.”
I stare at him for a moment. “Caelian Ziccardi, is that you? Or have you been replaced by an AI bot?”
He lets out a wolfish laugh that in turn makes me laugh. It’s a deep and gritty sound to my ears, but there’s also an earnest quality about it that warms my heart and tickles my belly. It’s the kind of sound that makes you feel good when you hear it.
Caelian’s genuine, unfiltered laughter. The barbarian mafiacapowith a sense of humor.
He’s thinking the same thing I am. His gaze glints looking at me. “Somia bella ballerinais wittier than I knew of. What other secrets is she keeping from me?”
“Maybe you should get to know me and find out.”
I almost cringe a split second after my answer. Automatic reflex after our time together. It seems any time I’ve taken a chance and expressed myself, I’ve been reprimanded. He’s snapped at me or raised his voice, and though he says he’s going in a new direction, I can’t control my immediate reactions to him.
The immediate worry he’ll grow furious and yell over me.
Silence follows my mouthy comment. Caelian studies me a moment longer, then gives a slow nod of his head.
“Your skepticism has been earned. I haven’t made an effort to learn about you. But I will now. Tell me about your life.”
“Caelian, you don’t have to ask. I don’t want you feeling obligated to.”
“But I want to know. So tell me.”
“What else is there to say but my life’s revolved around dancing? I belonged to the dance company. Isn’t that how I wound up here? You bought me from Ignazio?”
“Is that how it’s been? You have belonged to the company your whole life?"
A sad smile touches my lips. "Not always. When I was really little, I lived with my family."
“And what happened?"
“My father... he worked for the Vorones. He was Nero Vorone’s personal accountant. You know how it goes—it’s difficult for people to escape the bottom rung of society and not fall prey to everything that entails. The crime, violence, all the poverty. My father was desperate to protect us from it. So, he made a deal in exchange for his services. For a while, we lived a nice, peaceful life.”
“It sounds like that eventually came to an end,” Caelian says, reaching for his glass.