Page 8 of Oath of Protection (Blood Oath Bargains #1)

EIGHT

FAMILY DINNER

Sunday dinner at the Valente compound wasn't optional. Cam learned this when Nico mentioned it with the resignation of a man facing root canal surgery.

"It's a command performance," Nico said, adjusting his tie in the mirror of their latest safe house. "Sofia cooks, everyone comes, we pretend we're a normal family for three hours."

"And I need to be there because?"

"Because you're my shadow now, remember? Where I go, you go." Nico turned from the mirror, his expression apologetic. "Fair warning—my family's going to want to get to know you. They'll ask questions."

Cam had faced insurgents in Kandahar with less apprehension than he felt walking into that dining room.

The Valente compound at night was all warm light and expensive wine, a domestic scene that belonged in magazines rather than the home of a crime family.

Sofia had outdone herself—osso buco, fresh pasta, bread that smelled like heaven.

"Camden!" Sofia rose from her chair the moment they entered, her smile genuine and welcoming. "Finally, I get to meet the man keeping my son alive."

She was smaller than Cam had expected, elegant in the way of women who'd raised children and buried dreams but never lost their grace. Her handshake was firm, her eyes sharp as they assessed him.

"Mrs. Valente. Thank you for including me."

"Please, call me Sofia. And thank you for what you're doing for Nico." Her voice carried the warmth of a mother who'd spent too many nights worrying about empty chairs at her table.

Bianca appeared at his elbow with a glass of wine. "You clean up well," she said, studying his suit with approval. "Armani?"

"Off the rack," Cam replied, earning a laugh.

"Honest. I like that." She guided him toward the table. "Come on, let me introduce you to the extended family circus."

The dining room held more people than Cam had expected.

Not just the core family, but aunts, uncles, cousins—a sprawling network of blood and marriage that filled the massive table.

Conversation flowed in Italian and English, punctuated by laughter and gentle arguing that came with forty years of shared meals.

Matt Rossi sat at Sal's right hand, discussing harbor development with the focused intensity of a man who treated Sunday dinner like a board meeting. Tony held court at the far end, telling stories that made his cousins laugh while his eyes tracked every movement in the room.

Cam found himself seated between Bianca and an elderly aunt who immediately began interrogating him about his marital status, his mother's health, and whether he knew how to cook. Across the table, Nico looked caught between amusement and mortification.

"Aunt Lucia, leave the man alone," Nico said. "He's working."

"Working, nothing. He's family now." Lucia patted Cam's hand with the authority of someone who'd been feeding people for seven decades. "You eat, you're family. Simple."

The food was exceptional—rich, complex flavors that spoke of recipes passed down through generations. Cam found himself relaxing despite the circumstances, drawn into conversations about everything from the city's latest construction projects to Sofia's garden.

"So, Camden," Sal said during a lull in conversation. "Nico tells me you served in Afghanistan."

"Yes, sir. Three tours."

"My father fought in Italy during the war. Said the mountains there reminded him of the hills outside Palermo." Sal's eyes were thoughtful. "He always said the men who fought beside him became brothers, regardless of where they started."

There was weight behind the words, an acknowledgment that Cam wasn't just hired help. Around the table, conversation had quieted, family members listening to an exchange that clearly mattered.

"Your father sounds like a wise man," Cam said.

"He was. He also taught me that some bonds are stronger than blood." Sal raised his wine glass in a small salute. "To the men who stand between danger and the people we love."

The toast was echoed around the table, but Cam noticed Tony's glass remained on the table, his expression unreadable.

After dinner, the family dispersed into smaller groups. The older generation claimed the living room for espresso and grappa, while cousins gathered in the kitchen to argue over soccer scores. Cam found himself on the terrace with Bianca, looking out over gardens lit by strategically placed lights.

"They like you," she said, lighting a cigarette despite the disapproving look from Sofia through the window.

"They're being polite."

"Trust me, politeness and acceptance are two different things in this family. You passed some kind of test in there." She took a long drag, exhaling slowly. "Nico seems... different around you."

Cam kept his expression neutral. "How so?"

"Calmer. Like he's not carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for once." Bianca studied his face. "He's been alone too long, you know. Even when he's surrounded by people, he's alone."

"He has his family."

"Family's complicated when you're the heir apparent.

Everyone wants something from you—approval, money, protection.

Hard to know who you can trust." She flicked ash into the darkness.

"But you? You're not family, you're not looking for a handout, and you've got no reason to lie to him about anything important. "

"I'm just doing my job."

"Are you?" Bianca's smile was knowing. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you care about him. Really care, not just professionally."

Before Cam could respond, the terrace door opened and Tony stepped out, his presence immediately shifting the dynamic.

"Bianca, Ma wants you inside. About dessert."

Bianca stubbed out her cigarette, giving Cam a meaningful look. "Think about what I said."

After she left, Tony moved to stand beside Cam at the railing. For a moment, they stood in comfortable silence, two men watching security lights sweep across carefully maintained grounds.

"Nice evening," Tony said finally.

"It is. Your family's very welcoming."

"They are. Sometimes too welcoming." Tony's voice carried a casual note that didn't match the intensity in his eyes. "My mother, especially. She tends to adopt strays."

Cam felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. "Strays?"

"People who wander into our lives, make themselves useful. Sometimes they stick around longer than they should." Tony turned to face him directly. "Sometimes they forget that being welcomed doesn't mean being family."

The threat was politely delivered but unmistakable. Cam met Tony's gaze without flinching.

"I'm clear on my role here."

"Are you? Because it's easy to get confused, especially when you're spending so much time with my brother. Easy to think that proximity equals belonging."

"Mr. Valente, I'm here to keep Nico alive. Nothing more, nothing less."

Tony's smile was sharp, but his voice stayed casual. "Good. Because Nico's had protection before, and it didn't always end well for the people involved. Marco, for instance. Good man, devoted to the family. Right up until someone put a bullet in his chest."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. Cam understood the message—loyalty to the Valente family was expected, but it came with a price that others had already paid.

"I appreciate the reminder," Cam said.

"I'm sure you do." Tony straightened his jacket. "Enjoy the rest of your evening. And remember—we take care of our own, but we also know how to handle problems when they arise."

After Tony left, Cam remained on the terrace, processing the conversation. The man had just delivered a threat wrapped in family politeness, a reminder that stepping out of line would have consequences. But there had been a warning there too—almost protective.

Marco... didn't always end well for the people involved.

Was Tony suggesting that Marco's death hadn't been entirely about external threats? That internal family dynamics played a role in who lived and who died?

"Everything okay out here?" Nico's voice came from behind him.

Cam turned to find Nico silhouetted in the doorway, concern evident in his posture.

"Fine. Just getting some air."

"Tony didn't say anything... problematic, did he?"

"Just family business. Nothing I can't handle."

Nico stepped onto the terrace, moving to stand beside him at the railing. "He can be protective of family interests. Sometimes that comes across as aggressive."

"I got that impression."

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the warmth from dinner beginning to fade in the cool night air. Around them, the compound hummed with relaxed energy from good food and wine.

"Thank you," Nico said quietly. "For tonight. I know family dinners aren't part of your usual job description."

"It was... illuminating."

"That's one word for it." Nico's mouth quirked upward. "What did you think of them? Honestly."

Cam considered the question, thinking about Sofia's genuine warmth, Sal's quiet authority, Bianca's sharp intelligence. "They love you. All of them, even when they're driving you crazy."

"Yeah. They do." Nico was quiet for a moment. "That's what makes this whole situation so complicated. Everything I do, every risk I take, it affects all of them. Sometimes I wonder if it would be easier if I didn't have so much to lose."

"Easier doesn't mean better."

"No. It doesn't." Nico glanced at him. "What about you? Family?"

"Parents died when I was twenty-two. Car accident. No siblings, no extended family to speak of." Cam's voice was matter-of-fact. "Just me."

"That's got to be lonely."

"Sometimes. But it also means fewer people to worry about, fewer people who can get hurt because of choices I make."

Nico was quiet, absorbing this. When he spoke again, his voice was thoughtful.

"I used to think that would be simpler. But watching you tonight, seeing how my family responded to you... I think maybe you've been missing out."

Before Cam could respond, Sofia's voice drifted from inside, calling them back for dessert. As they walked toward the warm light of the house together, Cam found himself thinking about belonging, about the difference between protecting someone and caring about them.

And about Tony's warning that some people forgot the distinction between being welcomed and being family.

The line was becoming harder to see every day.