“Okay. Hopefully we’ll hear something soon.”
“We’ll get it figured out.” Abella smiles. “But right now I’m starving, and Nonna made enough food for an entire village. So we better get out there and eat it.”
“Alright.” I steel myself, mentally preparing to face Riccardo. “Let’s go then.”
20
GABRIELA
“It’sall about disrupting the status quo.” Riccardo’s voice carries over all the others as we approach the dining area. “I’m telling you, cuz, banking is obsolete. In a few more years, using a debit card will be as primitive as cave drawings. The time for evolution is now.”
As we round the corner, I can see that Rafe is his chosen soundboard for the evening, and even though they’re related, poor Rafe looks like he’d rather cut off his own ears than have this conversation.
Riccardo is well known as a crypto-bro and, in some circles, a scammer. He’s also a big proponent of high-end cocaine and genetic optimization—a future where empathy and weakness have been bred out of the genome.
I’ve heard him described as a megalomaniac, and that seems more accurate by the minute. Truthfully, I can’t think of a single redeeming quality he possesses, and the idea of being married to him and listening to this for the rest of my life makes me feel physically ill.
It’s apparent he’s had a few drinks already in the time it took me to get here from the ballroom. I’m not sure if it’s because I’malready emotionally overloaded, but his voice is more grating than usual.
When he notices that I’ve arrived, a flicker of irritation moves through his gaze as it falls on me. I challenged him earlier, and he didn’t like it.
“Gabriela.” He snaps his fingers like I’m a dog. “Come here. I was just telling Rafe about my latest business venture.”
I join them with all the enthusiasm of a bait fish on a hook, and it must be obvious because Riccardo shoots me a contemptuous look.
“We’ll need to work on how you present yourself to my investors,” he says. “I’ll expect you to network with me and bring something to the table. Aren’t you supposed to have some kind of special talent? I thought that was part of the autism thing.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at his stupidity. “Sorry to disappoint, but I got the special interests and big emotions kind of autism, not the savant fantasy version. I guess the brochure didn’t cover that.”
Rafe snorts, and Riccardo looks like he’s ready to spit flames. Those are usually the type of thoughts I keep inside my head, but it spilled out before I could really think of the consequences. For once, I don’t regret it. He’s an asshole.
“Fine,” Riccardo grits out. “You can just stand here and look pretty while you pretend you understand what I’m talking about. You’ll have to get used to it, since you’ll bemy wife.”
He emphasizes that last part like he’s staking a claim on me. Rafe clenches his jaw, and I’m fairly certain he wants to punch his lights out.
“I’d say Gabi is already well-practiced at the art of pretending. She seems to tolerate you, doesn’t she?”
Rafe says it like it’s a joke, but it’s definitely not. And Riccardo is definitely not laughing.
“Very funny,” Riccardo snaps. “But I think Gabi knows how lucky she is to be engaged to a high-value man.”
I groan inwardly as I imagine him sitting at home, listening to incel podcasts. Now, he’s putting me in a position where he wants me to agree with him out loud—like that means anything. If Michael were here, I probably would have managed to force the words out, but right now, I can’t seem to get my mouth to cooperate. My hesitation only pisses him off even more.
Thankfully, Rafe distracts him by pointing at his ear. “They run out of picture books at the tattoo parlor, or did you lose a bet?”
“What are you talking about?” Riccardo blanches.
“You have a penis behind your ear.”
“Motherfucker,” Riccardo hisses under his breath. “It was a prank. I’m getting it removed.”
“Hmm.” Rafe scrapes a hand over his jaw, trying to hide his amusement.
His phone vibrates, and he checks out of the conversation momentarily while he taps out a text. That’s when Riccardo chooses to grab my arm, squeezing it as he leans in to hiss in my ear.
“Would it kill you to smile when you see me? You might be hot, but your little quirks are getting annoying. Michael said you had a handle on them.”
I want to tell him Romeo never had a problem with my "quirks," because I know that’s what this is really about. He’s feeling emasculated and disrespected, and now he wants me to publicly acknowledge his superiority and his oh so charitable offer of marrying me.
