Page 10 of A Wife’s Duty

T hey never stayed in one place and got too comfortable.

That was what Lucia came to realize. Boone moved them around the city, to different apartments.

All the buildings looked similar, but no one was ever the same.

She had lost count of the number of places they had stayed.

There had even been a hotel at one time.

And they were now approaching the two-month mark in their marriage.

She had not seen her family in two months, and she didn’t regret that. The less she saw them, the better. Boone went about doing his work. He wasn’t wrong, there were still a lot of businesses he took care of—multiple nightclubs, restaurants, even a casino, and several small businesses as well.

They also went back to Nancy and Howard’s café, which was one of her favorite places. She loved their biscuits. They served them with the most delectable strawberry jam and cream. She just couldn’t say no.

As for Boone, she didn’t really know her husband.

He was a man of mystery, and yet he was kind.

Each morning, he told her the man’s name that was taking care of her, and if she wanted to go anywhere, she should just let him know.

She hadn’t opted to go anywhere. Back home, the only places she was allowed to go were wherever her father was.

Asking to go anywhere else resulted in a beating.

Although, being cooped up in the apartment wasn’t exactly fun.

She watched television until she could no longer stand it.

Then, she would read the books on display in the main sitting room.

She’d wander through to the kitchen, cook herself lunch, or just stare aimlessly at the ingredients.

For a long time, she would look through a cookbook and wonder what it was like to make the items inside.

It was at the end of the second month, and she got so bored that she grabbed the book and made her way into the kitchen, determined to cook the first thing she had ingredients for. As it happened, it was meatballs and spaghetti. Also, there were a few baking essentials.

Lucia didn’t have a clue what she was doing.

Tying her hair back, she hated the length.

That was another rule—she wasn’t allowed to cut her hair.

The men within the Bonaldi family liked women with long hair.

Tattoos were off limits as well. They had to remain pure.

The men, however, could get ink, have short hair or long hair.

There was no freedom for women. They were to do as they were told.

Pushing all of that crap to the back of her mind, she delved into the cookbook.

She gathered all the ingredients and made sure to put them at separate points on the counter.

There was no way she wanted to run the risk of pouring chocolate chips into her meatballs, or tomato sauce. That would just be gross.

“You can do this, Lucia.”

This is what boredom had gotten her.

Did she make the wrong choice? Did Boone hope for her to choose something else?

Something that was betraying him. It didn’t matter.

Betraying her husband didn’t feel right to her.

She had to focus on staying alive, cooking, and just attempting to get through.

So far, in the last few weeks, there had been no other big scandal to hit the news.

She didn’t know what her family thought of the fallout from the mayor, if there were any repercussions at all.

When she plunged her fingers into the ground beef, she scrunched up her nose. It felt weird as it squelched between her fingers. After a rather uncomfortable beginning, she got into the swing of cooking.

The meatballs were formed, and they did not remain the same size. They started out rather small and gradually got bigger, but she didn’t change them. That was the joy of home cooking.

Next, she prepared the tomato sauce, and she had never cut an onion before.

With tears rolling down her cheeks, she tried to slice it small, but there was no chance of that.

She sniffled and worked on the garlic. The scent of raw garlic was disgusting.

It didn’t matter how many times she washed her hands, the smell was stuck on there.

She worked her way through the sauce, constantly washing her hands, using a soap, in the hope of ridding that smell for good.

Putting the sauce to one side, she got to work on the chocolate cake.

The instructions were detailed and were supposed to be for a beginner.

She worked her way through it, and by the end of the day, she had baked and iced the cake.

There was a reason the recipe suggested cooling the cake completely, but after allowing some of the frosting to melt, she did that.

It worked, kind of. The cake looked absolutely nothing like the picture, and some of the meatballs were burnt and tough, but it was all cooked.

She served herself some pasta and meatballs, and she was about to head to the table, when Boone entered the apartment. He stepped into the kitchen and she looked at him, then at the food.

“Do you want ... any?” she asked.

“You cooked?”

“Attempted to. It probably tastes bad. I’ve never cooked.”

“I’ll have some,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m starving and it beats eating out.”

This made her smile, and she served him a bowl. She might have made way more than two people needed.

Carrying their bowls to the table, she had picked up a second set of cutlery and handed it to him. He took it with a thank you.

She wanted to ask him so many questions, but she just sat beside him and pierced the first meatball with her fork.

Placing it in her mouth, she took a bite and moaned.

It was so good. Actually, there was a little too much garlic and onion, and then she wondered if she should have put them in the fridge.

There was also a chewy meatball, and tender.

She glanced over at Boone.

“You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to,” she said.

“It tastes good.”

This made her frown. “You don’t have to lie.”

He looked up and turned his brown gaze toward her. She couldn’t look away. She felt drawn to him in some way. Nothing seemed to make sense.

“You think I’m lying?” he asked.

“I, uh, I don’t know.”

“Lucia, I’m over forty years old. I’ve had a lot of meals in my time, and trust me, this is good. Is it the best thing I have ever tasted, no. Is it the worst thing I ever ate, no.”

Somewhere in between. She could live with that. She smiled at him. “I’ve never cooked before.”

“I gathered.”

“And I baked a cake. Kind of. It looks like a cake, but I skipped a few steps. There’s no eggshell in it, though.

Did you know cracking eggs can be hard?” She was not going to tell him she asked Ben, the guard who was taking care of her today, to show her how to crack an egg. That was too embarrassing.

“I look forward to trying it.”

He didn’t have to be so sweet, but she was happy he didn’t seem to mind that she cooked. Back home, she was not allowed near the kitchen as that was for their staff. She was not allowed to do anything. Her life had been so boring.

What’s different here? You do nothing.

Lucia glanced at Boone. Should she ask him?

He said he would never hurt her, but what if that had been a lie?

She didn’t know much about him, other than he claimed not to be like her father or any of the men under Bonaldi’s ruling.

Yet, she knew he had killed people, so how did that make him so different?

He acted so calm that day his car exploded. Like he expected it.

“Ask,” Boone said, making her jump.

“What?”

“You clearly want to ask me something, so ask.”

“It’s nothing.”

“You don’t believe me when I say I am not like your father,” he said.

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

She opened her mouth and then closed it, because in a way, it was exactly like that.

He raised a brow.

She took a deep breath and decided she should just go for it. Back home, she was used to being hit, and if he was no different from her father, she might as well learn now.

“Is there something I can do during the day?” she asked. “I’m going out of my mind, just sitting around. I don’t want to watch television, and I’ve read all the books you have. I’m bored, and the only reason I cooked today was to do something with my time. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“What would you like to do?”

His question took her by surprise.

Lucia stared at him. “I ... uh ... I don’t know.” How pitiful was this? She didn’t even know what to do. “Forget it.”

“No, let’s not forget it. What would you like to do?” he asked.

She dropped her head, and then her hair slid in front of her, and she looked at her long, pain-in-the-ass hair. Lifting her head, she turned to look at Boone. “I’d like to get a haircut.”

“Okay. We’ll go tomorrow. I know a good place and they’ll treat you right.”

“You’re going to allow me to get a haircut?”

“It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“For real?”

He stared at her. “I’m starting to wonder if you’re attempting to fool me with these trick questions.”

She shook her head. “No, nothing like that. I just, I guess I didn’t expect you to agree to allow me to get my hair cut.” She offered him a smile and then pressed her lips together. “Thank you.”

“You’re a strange person, Lucia. One day, you will learn that all you have to do is ask, and you’ll get what you want.”

Should she believe him? He had not hurt her. He’d not demanded his husbandly rights. They shared a bed, yet they had not consummated their marriage. She might be able to start trusting him. Maybe? Possibly.

****

B oone knew the hairdresser was losing patience, but he gave her a look that told her to wait. Lucia kept getting out of the chair and climbing back in. They had been in the salon for twenty minutes.