“She remembers me.” He exhaled dramatically, pressing his hand over his heart and taking a step toward me, maybe to give me a hug, but he was stopped by Alfonso’s harsh warning and dangerously narrowed eyes.
“Behave and stay the fuck away from her, brother.” Alfonso’s gaze for a second lingered on the blonde, but they were unreadable, and I couldn't name the expression.
Romeo raised his hands in defeat, shrugged, and then gave the much-needed respect to my dad, who wasn't happy with the scene, if his gritted teeth and fake smile were anything to go by.
“The dinner is ready,” Lucretia informed us. Nodding, our fathers followed her into the dining room as I smiled widely and decided to get to know the girl better, as the good hostess I was supposed to be.
“Hi, my name is Rosalinda.”
She smiled back at me, although it was a hardship for her. “Bianca.”
She nervously glanced at Romeo, who accepted a whiskey and gulped it in one move, saying, “Another,” to the waiter.
As we walked slowly to the room, the brothers behind us, I continued chatting with her, even if it seemed to only bring tension between the three of them. “So where are you from?” The name was Italian, but her features didn't really match the nation.
She licked her dry lips, and answered quickly, “The States. My mom liked the Italian culture; ergo, the name,” she lied. It was evident on how she presented the information and kept glancing behind her as if making sure she didn't do anything wrong.
What the hell had Romeo done to her? Alfonso didn't give me time to dwell on it, as he quickly joined me, took out the chair, seated me, and then occupied the one next to me. Romeo didn't even bother helping Bianca, just plunged on the seat, and clicked his fingers for the waiter for yet another drink. “He’ll be drunk real quick this way,” I muttered, and Alfonso chuckled, although there was nothing humorous about it.
“Trust me, babe, you haven't seen anything yet. He’ll be sober enough to stand even after a bottle.”
When Bianca accidentally pushed the fork away and it ended up on the floor, Romeo snapped, “Be careful.” She lowered her gaze, nodded, and picked it up.
Perplexed that no one even blinked at this behavior, my eyes travelled to my father, who shook his head.
In that moment, I hated being his daughter. It wasn't that my dad approved of violence or disrespect toward women, but he couldn't say anything until the woman herself asked for help. His expression was grim. He had a rather dismissive smile, which indicated his diastase for the situation. Had Romeo hit her in front of him, he’d beat the living shit out of him, but in this case, his hands were tied.
Rules were rules, and no one could break them.
Uncle Allegro didn't give a shit or had stopped paying attention at some point to what his son was doing, because he took a sip of his red wine and addressed me. “So, Rosalinda. What are your plans for the future?”
I waited until Lucretia served a steaming risotto and pasta ravioli for the main course to everyone, and replied cheerfully, “To get my medical degree. I want to be a surgeon.”
He laughed, almost choking on his drink. “Why would you want to waste your time on a degree you’ll never use?”
Blinking a few times and wiping my mouth with the napkin on my lap, I asked, confused, “What do you mean ‘waste my time’?”
Raising his brow in surprise, as though the answer to my question was freaking obvious, he stated, “You’ll be at home raising little ones. I doubt Lorenzo would appreciate this hobby of yours,” he finished.
Ex-fucking-cuse me? “What does Lorenzo have to do with it?” I decided to ignore his comment about my degree, because it was pointless. He clearly still belonged to the group of men who thought a woman’s place was at home. Which was all good and dandy as long as it washerchoice.
Allegro frowned, all traces of amusement leaving him. “Well, he is your fiancé. Why else? By the way, as your godfather, I expect an invitation soon.” He made a gesture with his eyebrows, as though it was supposed to lift up the cloud of rage inside me.
“What in the ever-loving world is this?” My shrill voice probably would have woken the dead.
“Fuck,” Alfonso murmured, wincing as Romeo’s head tilted back and a giggle erupted. Why the fuck would a man giggle anyway? Bianca looked deeply uncomfortable and almost had her face shoved in her plate.
But I didn't give a shit, because my whole attention was focused on my dad.
“Dad,” I started calmly, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, after all, and to remember I wasn't a stupid teen anymore. “Tell me it’s some kind of joke.”
His lips thinned as he chewed on his food and finally swallowed. “It’s just a possibility.” Lorenzo had been a nice guy since my return. He was the head of my security and a driver. He had a great sense of humor, and he and Dominic actually shared a mutual respect. Never once did he look at me inappropriately or mention this whole marriage charade. If he knew, I would kill him.
“I don’t want this possibility!” I shouted, but before he could reply, Allegro pitched in his freaking two cents.
“Watch your tone, young lady.”
Dismissing him altogether, because honestly, no matter my good upbringing, I didn't freaking care for his thoughts. I grabbed the edge of the table, feeling the polished wood under my fingers. “I won’t marry him.”
