“Our whole marriage, you heard what you wanted to hear,” she interrupts smoothly, drying her hands on a towel. “Andwhen it became clear that you were fucking everything that spread its legs for you, I decided it would be more fun to let you think you got cucked by Aurelio Demonio, the man you hate most in the world, than to tell you the truth.”
Lorenzo’s face is dark with fury. He spits when he talks. “Iwascucked by you and Aurelio. You let him fuck you a week before our wedding.”
I look to my mother, hoping to hear her say that she was forced in some way, because that is just disgusting. But she doesn’t.
My mom turns to me. “You see, when your father and I were coming up, all marriages were arranged by the boss of the family. Lorenzo was new to the mafia world. He wanted to build his credibility, and marrying a woman from an established family would help. My father and his father before him worked for the Bellamortes, and the goal at that time was to try to unite the Bellamortes and the Demonios in order to avoid a war.”
Lorenzo scoffs. “Always misguided. Had anyone paid attention to Aurelio’s behavior, they would have known that would never—”
“Regardless, your father was promised to me as a way to bind the families. Except Lorenzo wasn’t a made man, and my father wasn’t happy with the match. He wanted me higher in the pecking order. He wanted me with Aurelio.” She crosses to Lorenzo and brushes something off his coat.
I feel like I’m processing all this information on a full 30-second delay. “Wait, Dad, you worked for the mafia? After all the shit you talked about Tommy, and you were actively trying to get inducted into the mob? What the fuck?”
“I found my way out of it, Giovanna. Like Antonio will, which is why he is a better match for you.” My dad speaks through clenched teeth, and Antonio half glances in my direction, then leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
My mother smirks. “You found your way out, did you? Then why are you still at Aurelio’s beck and call?”
My father turns on her, nostrils flaring. “You know damn fucking well—”
“Mom! Finish!”
“Yes, you’re impatient, dear.” She trails her manicured nails lightly over Lorenzo’s sleeve. “I was in love with your father—Lorenzo, to be clear. I wanted to be with him. But he didn’t want to marry me. He didn’t want to get married at all. Your first lesson, Giovanna: when a man tells you who he is, believe him.”
Tommy pulls me onto his lap, and I rest my head against his shoulder. He told me who he was from the start. And he’s never wavered. And now I’m having his babies. A tear slips down my cheek as Tommy places a protective hand over my stomach.
My mother continues. “My father was very strict, and I was not allowed to go out with my girlfriends and stay out late, so I heard from them that he slept with three different young women in our circle in the weeks before our wedding.”
“Who told you that?” Lorenzo grumbles.
“Is it not true?”
My dad stalks to the refrigerator, stares inside, then pulls out a beer and grumbles, “Why don’t you have anything stronger?”
“I don’t drink, sir.” Tommy says from the couch, his eyes still on me.
“Of course you don’t,” my father snipes. He grabs another bottle and tosses it to Antonio, who catches it and opens it with his key ring, draining half of it in one swallow. “And now you’re out of beer.”
My mother laughs. “You didn’t really think that I was in the dark all these years, did you, Lorenzo? Your own daughter has caught you. Multiple times.”
My dad glances at me, and I nod in confirmation. “Yeah, you make a lot of rookie mistakes, Dad.” Antonio’s watching me, and I give him a pointed look. “So do you.”
Antonio narrows his eyes at me, and I turn back to my mother.
She smiles at me softly and continues. “I knew he hated Aurelio, and Aurelio had wanted me for years. I was 17 when my father finally allowed me to go out with him, hoping it might secure a marriage alliance.”
“You’re forgetting that Aurelio was already married,” my father grumbles.
I raise my eyebrows at my mom.
She sighs. “He was, but everyone knew it wouldn’t last.” Darting a glance at Tommy, she smiles at him warmly. “I’m sorry, dear. Your mother was a beautiful soul, far too good for your father.”
Tommy doesn’t acknowledge her. The way he’s flitting his gaze between my face and his hand on my belly, I doubt he’s hearing any of this.
“No, your soul was definitely a much better fit for Aurelio,” says my father drily.
“At that time? I don’t disagree.”
My mouth twists like I’m tasting something bitter, and my mother rolls her eyes with a tinkly laugh.
