I'm pretty sure it's Italian forget wrecked.
Paul laughs into his beer, but when he sees Mara's dead eyes, his grin gets desperate and he quickly deflects. "Speaking of marriages, the boss finally picked a date."
"Oh yeah!" Mara instantly recalibrates into beaming, fingers grazing the gold cross at her throat. "November 14!"
I cheer on instinct. Ben doesn't.
"November? I told you that month's hell for me. And everyone's going to freeze."
Paul's eyes go wide—abort, abort.
Too late.
"Shut up." Mara's voice cracks like a match, her temperblazing in her eyes. "Don't you dare! I fought with Mamma for two weeks over this. Two weeks! It's the last date St. Anthony's had, and she wanted it, so I gave in, because somebody—" she spears him with a glare sharp enough to cut, "—decided to do a Vegas stunt, where none of us got invited."
Ben flashes her a look but goes still.
The whole table follows before I realize what she just said and whip toward him.
“Wait, what?Yougot married in Vegas?”
The guy who couldn't fit his friends in Madison Square Garden? The guy whose Nonna planned his wedding since he was five?
“None of your business. It’s what we wanted," he mutters, his knee knocking mine under the table, like he's ready to get up. Done.
"We?" My eyes narrow. He sounds like Lisa and that pushes a bad button, so I smirk, eyes cold. "Damn, she trained you well. Tell me, did she say yes before or after the buffet?"
Ben's jaw ticks. Then he turns his head toward me, slowly, with the kind of look that could level a city—death-stare locked, warning me he's seconds from erupting. "Youwant to talk about reckless weddings?"
Internally, I flinch. Not even because of the comeback.
I know I went too far, kind of want to apologize, but I'm still pissed and pride doesn't let me.
So we just stare at each other before Mara intervenes, her tone soft, her hand on Ben's hand. "Hey? Hey?"
Only his eyes answer. "Mmm?"
She starts tapping on his wrist like that'll soothe him. "It's alright. Forget it. You'll be so handsome in the suit. We’ll take nice photos. Mom’s excited. You’ll be right next to me, ushering like the good brother you are.” She pauses, then jabs a finger at him. “And don’t think you’re skipping Thanksgiving again! We're counting on you this year."
Ben tilts his head, staring her down before he turns back to me, assessing, like he's calculating which one of us will kill him first.
Paul tries to laugh it off, the mediator he is. "You have to come to play Scopa with us. Antonio's been winning too long."
Ben slides back in the chair, fury still pulsing under the surface. “He cheats all the time. That's why."
"You, babe?" Mara jumps into it and turns to me. "You'll be my bridesmaid. The theme is soft yellow."
"Yay, my favorite color," I chirp.
"You'll look great in it," Mara says. "Maybe too great, but whatever. Don't lose the tan."
Before I can tell her that might be a problem, that I'm already peeling, a man draped in a peacock-feather cloak swoops in, grinning straight at Ben.
"Ben! Finally. The boys said you made it."
Ben jumps up instantly and claps his back, voice strong. "Jonah, the Peacock King! Man, what you did is incredible. I owe you, big time."
Jonah waves his hand. "Don't mention it. You always do so much for us."
