Micah couldn’t help it; he snorted. “Hardly. I mean, the criminal mind is fascinating and all, but I’m actually more interested in the investigative process… you know, examining the presented evidence and making a judgement for myself about what I think happened.”

Marco narrowed his eyes. “So you don’t just mindlessly believe whatever the police tell you?”

Micah frowned. “No one’s infallible, but I think they are generally on the right track.” He paused, hesitating a moment before adding, “I actually wanted to be a cop when I was younger.”

Micah glanced at Damon, wondering if he would be upset he had made such an admittance to his family considering… everything, but his stoic expression offered no insight.

“A cop? Really?” Luckily, Marco looked more amused than anything. (After all, who would suspect an actual cop to admit to a family of mobsters that he had wanted to be a policeman when he was younger? It was probably the only job they viewed in a worse light than what they thought Micah did for money.) “So, you’re inquisitive then?”

Micah shrugged. “I prefer the term ‘naturally curious’.”

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know,” Marco pointed out, before taking a sip of his wine.

“Good thing they have nine lives then,” Micah shot back.

Marco grinned his shark-like smile. “Perhaps. Alas, people like you and me are only blessed with one, and it’s always a tragedy when one’s life is… cut short.”

“Micah doesn’t have to worry about such things,” Damon snapped, breaking up Micah’s strange back-and-forth with his uncle. “Not when he’s under my protection. Or have I not made that clear?” he demanded crisply.

Marco merely regarded Damon silently for a moment before offering an acquiescing nod. “Of course.”

The tension in the room was cut by the sound of Jason clearing his throat. “How about that cannoli, then?”

Damon glanced down at Micah’s plate at the man’s suggestion, frowning when he saw Micah hadn’t quite cleared it. To be fair, though, Damon had been generous when he’d filled it, and there were only a few bites left.

“Cannoli sounds great,” Micah agreed.

Damon’s frown didn’t diminish, but he nodded before reaching for the platter of pastries, holding it in front of Micah and insisting he take what he wanted before serving himself and then allowing the others to help themselves.

“Rosetta’s really outdone herself this time,” Joelle said as she popped a piece of cannoli in her mouth. “These are divine.”

She was right.

The outer layer of the pastry was crisp and sweet, and the chocolate cream filling was as smooth as silk with just the hint of cinnamon. Although Micah was a tad confused. “Who’s Rosetta?” he asked, after swallowing down the cannoli.

He didn’t realize it was an odd question until, almost simultaneously, everyone’s head swiveled as they turned to stare at him.