Devil made a strangled sound. “Sabrina, I don’t think—”
She waved him off and kept talking.
“Would you like a drink? Or some dessert? I’m sure Lola has something delicious in the kitchen.”
Lola smiled. “I have lemon cake, and I also have chocolate chip cookies. I try to keep those around all the time.”
“They’re my favorite,” Devil said.
I was trying to imagine Devil salivating over chocolate chip cookies, but it was too incongruous. “Thank you, but that’s not necessary. I’m fine.”
“Of course it’s necessary,” Sabrina said. “We want a chance to talk to you, and any time is a good time for dessert. You’re going to absolutely love Lola’s cooking.”
Devil shook his head. “Don’t overwhelm him.”
I appreciated his intervention. Sabrina was even scarier than him and Angelo.
As Sabrina and Devil glared at each other, the young man held out his hand. “I’m Peter. I’m Lucien’s boyfriend.”
I didn’t remember Lucien very well. He’d been a senior when I was a sophomore, but the idea of him settling down at all, especially with this quiet, unassuming man, seemed as odd as Devil’s cookie fetish.
“It’s nice to meet all of you, and I appreciate the offer of food, but I’m really tired. I’d prefer to go on to my room.”
Sabrina look like she was going to protest, but Peter stepped in. “Since you’ll be staying here, there will be plenty of time for us to get to know you later.”
“I’m not sure how long—”
Devil interrupted me. “Angelo isn’t going to let you go back to the bakery until he sure it’s safe.”
“Chances are,” Peter said, “he’s not going to let you leave at all.”
“I appreciate your hospitality, but it’s really best for me to return to my apartment as soon as I can.”
Peter smiled. “I thought the same thing when I moved in. Give it a chance.”
I wondered if Peter had also been brought here because he was in danger. How on earth had he gotten mixed up with Lucien?
“Why don’t I show you to Angelo’s room?” Lola asked.
“I can do it,” Peter said. “I know you were finishing up in the kitchen for the night.”
“If you’re sure you don’t mind.” She looked between me and Peter.
“You could just tell me where to go.”
“I’ll take you,” Peter insisted. He and Devil exchanged a look that I was sure communicated something significant. I wished I knew what it was.
“How long have you lived here?” I asked Peter as I followed him up the stairs.
“About three months.” He gestured to the first door on the left. “This is Angelo’s room.”
He followed me inside and waited as I took in the large room with dark wood floors, light gray walls, and a brick red comforter on the king-sized bed.
“Do you need anything else?” Peter asked.
I turned to face him then. “How did you meet Lucien?”
“A cousin of mine tricked me into showing up to work for Lucien to pay off his debt to the Marchesis. I tried to turn the job down, but Lucien… He doesn’t really take no for an answer, and once we met, he decided I was his.”
“And you just went along with that?”
Peter laughed. “Have you met him?”
“I knew him in high school, but it’s been years since I’ve seen him.”
“You know Angelo, though, so I’m sure you understand.”
He was right. As much as I wanted to act like he was crazy to give into Lucien’s demands, I knew exactly what he meant.
“I know I shouldn’t ask this, but are you okay with what the family does? It doesn’t bother you?”
“It did, and it still does sometimes, but I also see the good in them. I’ve seen them help people. I’ve seen the way they care for each other, and I love Lucien. This is where I belong.”
What if I belonged with Angelo? No. He’d never offered anything but sex and helping me as a friend. “I don’t think it’s like that with us. Angelo just sent me here because someone tried to start a fire at the bakery.”
Peter studied me for a moment, suddenly looking much older than he had before. “He’s not likely to come right out and say how he feels, but if he cared enough to send you here, to be protected by his family, then there’s more there than you think.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. I wasn’t sure I wanted Angelo to feel more for me than lust and a desire to control me.
“I’ll let you get some rest,” Peter said. “Maybe I’ll see you at breakfast.”
“Okay. Good night.”
Peter let himself out, and I kicked off my shoes, climbed into Angelo’s bed, and buried my face in his pillow so I could inhale his scent.
22
Angelo
It was late when I got home, and I was in a foul mood. The men who’d tried to set fire to the bakery wouldn’t tell me shit about their employer, no matter how much pressure I put on them. I finally decided they really didn’t know who the man was.