“She’s well.” I feign nonchalance while sipping my coffee. When the server returns to take my breakfast order, the hand holding the tablet shakes.
“No food, thanks,” I tell him. “I can’t stay long.”
“Angelo,” my father tuts. “Surely you can spare your old man an hour of your time? We have much to discuss regarding your sister’s forthcoming marriage.”
“Marriage?”Fuck. I hoped our last chat on the topic was enough to persuade my father that it makes no sense to marry Fina off. She handles all our PR. If she’s married, we’d have to find someone else to step into her role. And I don’t trust anyone else.
“Yes, Angelo. Marriage.”
Dad nods at the server, who scurries back over. “More coffee,” he barks. The man dashes away with the empty coffeepot, probably thinking the end of his shift can’t come soon enough.
“I thought the doctor advised against drinking coffee?” I remind Dad. “He said it interfered with your heart medication.”
“Fucking quack doesn’t know a damn thing,” Dad sneers. “There’s nothing wrong with me, as Francesca will attest.” The smug grin on his face makes me want to hurl. Dad’s pushing sixty yet thinks he’s still a virile twenty-something. If Francesca weren’t such a shallow, conniving little bitch, I’d feel sorry for her.
I wait until the server has topped up Dad’s coffee cup and left us before I quiz him on Fina’s suitor. It better not be one of the Fiorelli brothers. They’re both dumb as bricks and thugs to boot.
“I’ve come to an agreement with Domenico Santini,” Dad says with an avaricious gleam in his eye. “We can use his shipping routes for our product.”
If my sister’s happiness weren’t my priority, I’d applaud my father’s choice. Santini isn’t the worst man in the world, and hisshipping routes would indeed be useful. But this is Fina, and I know she’d rather die than marry someone other than Matteo.
“Dad, while Santini is a useful ally, please reconsider this marriage contract. Fina is happy as she is. And besides, who’s going to do her job if she marries Santini?”
“I don’t need to reconsider anything, Angelo,” he snaps, unhappy I’m questioning his decision making. “Like you, Serafina must do as she’s told. Santini will take care of her, and I have someone lined up to step into her shoes.”
My eyes narrow. “Oh? Who would that be?”
“Francesca, of course.” My jaw drops at his audacity. Francesca is barely twenty-two. Sure, she has a college degree, but I’d wager she fucked all her professors to earn it. The woman is shallow and vacuous and in no way qualified to become our family’s PR spokesperson.
A waft of heavy musk perfume nearly floors me as a light hand touches my shoulder.
“Hello, Angelo,” Francesco purrs. “How lovely of you to join us for breakfast.” When I half turn, the woman smiles at me. She loves to play the ingenue for my father, but I don’t miss the calculating gleam in her eye.
“Sit down, baby girl,” Dad orders. His sickly sweet tone is nothing like his usual voice.
While my father focuses on calling our beleaguered server over again, Francesca pouts and eye-fucks me. She’s wearing a ridiculously low-cut white dress that barely covers her tits. It’s highly inappropriate for a hotel like this. The damn woman looks like a hooker.
Once Dad’s attention is back on her, she simpers and preens while stroking his thigh under the table.
A few minutes pass as Dad makes idle chit-chat, and then he stands to use the bathroom. I contemplate asking whether his prostate is playing up again but decide I don’t actually care. Hisannouncing he has stage-four prostate cancer would make my life easier. And Fina’s.
As soon as my father is out of earshot, I turn to Francesca.
“I hear you’ve fucked your way into a PR executive role.”
Francesca nearly chokes on her lemon tea. “Excuse me?”
“You heard.” I lean forward. “Your blowjob skills might work on my father but trust me when I say I’m not buying anything you’re selling.”
A pink stain colors her cheeks. “Your father thinks I’ll be perfect as his PR director,” she bites out. I almost smile.
“We both know the only thing he cares about is whatever perverted shit you’re willing to let him do to you, so dream on, Barbie.”
From the way her blush deepens, I’ve hit gold. My father is well known for his unconventional tastes, so I bet Francesca has had to do many things she wouldn’t especially enjoy to persuade my father she’s right for Fina’s job.
I hope she knows this is only the beginning.
Dad might be old these days, but he’s not dead yet.
