Filthy Marcellos: Legacy: A Legacy Prequel by Bethany-Kris Read Free Book Online Page A

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