6. Chapter 6

Jade

Martha is the first person in the crowded dining room to notice our arrival. She immediately floats to us, walking straight up to me and beginning to fuss.

"How are you, darling girl? Did you sleep well?"

"Man, you get a long-lost daughter, and suddenly I'm chopped liver," Matteo complains, patting Dad on the back before maneuvering around Martha to get to the table.

"I slept great, thank you," I tell her, feeling a little self-conscious next to her. She's fully dressed for the day, and I'm swimming in men's clothes. Everyone else seems to be dressed as well. Some of them in suits, the others in casual dress. I fit in more with a shirtless Matteo than anyone else.

"What do you like for breakfast?" she inquires, turning toward the fully-stocked table. Just from a quick look, I can see several different kinds of pancakes and toppings, eggs, fruits, hash browns, meats, yogurts, juices, and more. "If it's not here, I can make you something special."

I don't even normally eat breakfast unless there's free stuff at school. "I can definitely find something," I say quickly. "I might actually have a hard time choosing, everything looks amazing."

Her smile lights up at that like I've just given her the greatest of all compliments. "You are a good girl," she says approvingly. "Such lovely manners."

"Martha," a new, deep voice speaks, stealing my attention. "You're hogging the girl."

Without hesitation, she smacks the newcomer with a dish towel, and he grins. "You are an impatient boy."

"Only you could see my old ugly face and call me a boy," he replies fondly.

She mutters about his insolence and walks away to attend to the table. The man is certainly not ugly, nor does he look old, and I think I know exactly who he is.

Uncle Cesar looks more like Leon than he does Dante or Apollo. His dark blonde hair is brushed back, styled neatly, and his suit is impressive for a breakfast outfit. I don't really know designer suits, but I imagine this is what one would look like.

"My niece," he greets, opening his arms but remaining still. He's giving me the option to receive the hug or not.

"Hi, Uncle Cesar," I greet softly, walking into his embrace. His warm welcome is lovely, and he smells like cloves.

"Heard of me already have you? Excellent." Uncle chuckles lightly, pulling back to look at my face. "She looks just like you, fratello," he tells his brother, pride in his tone.

Dad agrees with a nod, soft eyes scanning me.

"Don't worry, Uncle, I told her about you," Matteo chimes in before stuffing a bit of waffle into his mouth. "Gave her a whole family tree and everything."

"Is that right?" Uncle Cesar asks, amused.

"Yep," he agrees, swallowing his food. "Wouldn't expect her to keep up with all eight thousand of us without one."

"Smart," he agrees, ignoring the exaggeration.

"Don't sound too surprised, Uncle, you'll bruise his ego," Nico—I think—drawls, dropping into a chair next to his twin.

"Nothing can bruise Matteo's ego," Apollo argues. "Diseases don't bruise."

Matteo glares at him in return. "Look, everybody, Apollo's sunshiny personality has decided to grace us with its presence before noon. Quick, someone feed the grouch before he combusts."

"Ignore their antics," Uncle Cesar advises. "You'll get used to it."

It doesn't bother me as it is.

"Come," he gestures toward the table. "Let's eat before your brothers make everything disappear."

I can't imagine every bit of food on the table being eaten today. Although, I suppose I shouldn't underestimate how much food nine grown men can consume. I've seen jocks at lunch devour two or three portions and still be hungry afterward. Maybe they eat this much every day. I hope this isn't something Martha did just to make me feel welcome. It looks like a ton of work went into it.

Dante takes the head of the table with Leon and Apollo on either side of him. Uncle Cesar takes the other end of the table closer to Matteo. I sit there, too, finding it the most comfortable place to settle into.

I feel glances and curious looks as I make my plate, taking a blueberry pancake, a breakfast sausage, and a spoonful of eggs. As I take my first few bites, the table gets louder. People make conversation openly, much more naturally than last night. A bit of the shock from my arrival has worn off, and I'm glad for it.

Uncle Cesar pours an orange juice for me and one for himself, taking a smile as a sign of my thanks. Everyone is just so… nice. I wouldn't say normal since I can't think of a single person I know with this much obvious wealth. Not to mention, they're literally the mafia. They've likely killed people before. That fact doesn't change that this is the safest I've ever felt in a room full of people.

"Favorite sibling, pass me your phone. I need to put our contacts in," Matteo says, leaning toward me in the seat closest to mine.

Unsurprisingly, everyone watches me, observing our interaction closely. I wish they wouldn't because having eyes on you makes entirely normal things embarrassing. Just like this.

"Um, I don't have one," I tell him, setting down my fork. I'm afraid I might drop it loudly without thinking if I don't.

Matteo's brows scrunch. "What do you mean?"

My face burns, and I look up from my plate, giving him a shrug. "I don't have a phone."

"Why not?"

Armani clears his throat, giving Matteo a look like he's just asked the dumbest thing imaginable. I don't want him to feel bad for being curious, and I don't want to be embarrassed about something I have no control over. So I answer.

"Kim said if I wanted a phone, I had to buy one myself. She wouldn't let me work to get money to pay for one, and you can't really get a job without a phone or a car, so I just didn't. I've never had one."

You can physically feel the mood shifting. I wish I didn't have to keep ruining the positive atmosphere with boo-hoo stories from my life, but I have a feeling it's bound to keep happening.

"What did you use for emergencies?" he questions, nose scrunching.

I just shrug.

"Like, what if you needed a ride?" he persists.

"I walked," I reply carefully. "It's not like I really went anywhere outside of school. Kim wouldn't drive me around anyway."

Something flashes behind his eyes. "You walked… by yourself… without a phone?" The way he draws out the words makes it seem like he's attempting to compose himself.

"That's not that abnormal," I point out. "People do it all the time."

"People aren't my little sister," he retorts, his fists clenching on top of the table.

"Until last night, I wasn't either," I whisper sadly.

Silverware crashes into plates, and the sound of a chair scraping against wood screeches through the air. Without saying a word, Armani leaves the table with a clenched jaw and dark eyes. My lips part, and before I can say another thing, Dante is rising to his feet as well.

"I have business to attend to, excuse me." He rolls up his sleeves and begins to walk away. "Beto! Carlsmio! With me!"

He pauses just before he exits the dining room and takes a deep breath, collecting himself. "And for fuck's sake, someone get my daughter a cell phone!"

I turn back to Matteo. "Are they mad?"

He shakes his head. "Not at you."

Uncle Cesar rolls his shoulders and stands, leaving his meal unfinished. "I'll take care of it." Turning to Apollo, he asks, "You'll stay and hold the place down?"

"Nothing better to do," he sighs.

"That's the spirit," Cesar says with a nod. "I'll return within the hour."

"I really don't need a phone," I reason. "I don't want you to spend money on me. I—" Not entirely true, but I at least need to protest a small bit, for my pride's sake. Or what's left of it anyway.

Cesar blinks at me like he doesn't understand, and Apollo just smirks. "Better set her up with a card too, Uncle. It seems our newest Moretti isn't aware that she has money of her own now."

The older man chuckles at his nephew. "Good idea."

"What card?" I frown. "I already told you I don't have money."

Matteo chuckles, patting my hand. "Your family credit card. All Moretti kids have money, just go with it, sis."

Cesar offers another laugh before leaving us. I'm not one to turn down free things, especially when I actually need it. But a whole credit card? For myself?

"What if someone steals it from me?"

Apollo flicks his eyes to me. "Who exactly would steal from you while you're here with us?"

My lips pinch. "Won't I finish school?"

"You'll finish it here. You have two exams left, and both will take place here. It's already been arranged."

They thought about checking in with my school?Well, that's really nice.

"Oh," I breathe.

"So?" Apollo questions. "Who is going to rob you of your card in our house?"

Not having a good answer, I shrug. "What if Matteo mugs me in the hallway?"

A burst of laughter rips out of Matteo, and he slaps the table in the process.

"Funny," Apollo drawls, not finding my joke amusing. "If your brother happens to steal from you whilst you wander around the house, feel free to tell father. I'm sure he'll take care of it for you."

"Or you could simply stab him," Nico muses, sipping on some amber liquid in his short glass. Is he drinking whiskey with breakfast? "A few times."

I stiffen in my seat. What?

Matteo moves in close, his shallow breath meeting the side of my face. "Future enforcer, remember," he whispers. "He's genuinely suggesting you stab me a few times if I piss you off. He's not making a dig at you."

I release a held breath. So they know about the incident—at least as much as Brian knew—but they aren't teasing me about it.

"We'll have to work on getting you thicker skin," Remo comments gently. "It's a bit of a requirement in our world."

"I can be tough," I mutter honestly. I can, really. "It's just, I've never had a family before, and I've just barged into yours. I feel like I'm a second away from saying the wrong thing and being thrown back out. I don't want to mess it all up."

Matteo opens his mouth, likely to comfort me, when Apollo's deeper, more stern voice cuts in. "There is no being thrown out in this family, Jade. Morettis are for life."

Without a snarky comment, everyone agrees with various grunts and nods.

I really, really hope that that's true.