Does she know?
She must, otherwise she wouldn't be gloating like this. Was she in on it too? Make fun of the peasant girl—gain her trust and discard her like trash?
Something strange seems to pass between Enzo and Lucia, their eyes intensely glued to each other. It only further confirms that I may have been played—by everyone.
I won't cry…not anymore.
"Father," I address Rocco as he'd asked me. He stops eating, putting his utensils down and turning his attention to me. He raises an eyebrow and I take a deep breath, my plan set.
"I think it's been long enough since my marriage to Enzo, and we don't need to pretend to be cordial anymore. I'd like to move into my own place." I look him straight in the eye as I say this, showing no weakness.
His eyes widen and his fists hit the table, his bowl of soup jumping up and spilling some liquid onto the tablecloth. Another sound from my right tells me Enzo has done the same thing.
"Enzo, what is this? Is this some sort of joke?" Rocco sputters as he looks between the two of us.
"No, it's…" I start, wanting to make my position clear. But a hand grabs my leg from under the table, squeezing my flesh hard.
"Of course it's a joke, Father," Enzo amends, throwing in a smile for good measure. I try to shake off his hand, but his hold tightens to a painful degree.
"It's not funny, son. It's borderline insulting that she'd even suggest such a thing," Rocco exclaims, clearly incensed.
The hypocrisy doesn't escape me, as I know full well that like his son, he spends most of his time with whores. The mere reminder that Enzo's been playing me like a fool while he's been sleeping with who knows who has me almost rabid with anger. So I return Enzo'slovingtouch by lodging my nails in his hand. The more he squeezes my thigh, the more pressure I apply, digging my nails deeper into his skin, the thought of drawing blood a small satisfaction.
"Don't worry, Father. She's not serious," Enzo continues, gritting his teeth in pain, and my desire to hurt him increases tenfold.
He knew how careful I was with my heart, and he went togreat lengths to get it and then stomp on it. Death is the greatest mercy for those like him.
Rocco turns to his son, his expression grave. "Enzo, your wife doesn't know her place. She needs to be disciplined." He turns to me with narrowed eyes. "Women need to know where they stand and how much they should open their mouths."
"Discipline? I'm not a child," I burst out, incredulous he'd even suggest such a thing. Enzo's fingers tighten painfully, but I've long forgotten about the pain.
"Shut it, Allegra," Enzo says through gritted teeth.
"Son, I think you need to show your wife who's the man in the house," Rocco continues, and Lucia is finding it harder to hide her happiness at the turn of events.
"What do you…" I trail off when I feel a pinch in my thigh. I turn to Enzo, but his expression is unyielding.
"She needs to know what respect means. If you can't do it, then…"
"I'll do it," Enzo replies immediately, forcefully tugging me to my feet. "Don't worry, Father, she won't bother you again."
Rocco hums in approval.
"She needs to learn from your mother—seen but not heard. I rather think she needs something else in that mouth of hers." The corners of his mouth pull up, the innuendo clear.
Enzo drags me out of the dining room and into his office, closing the door behind him.
"Are you really that stupid, Allegra," he asks, coming toward me with measured steps, "to bring that up with my father?"
"Well, this," I point between us, "is clearly not working, so we might as well go our separate ways." Folding my arms over my chest, I take a defensive position lest he see through my mask.
"Separate ways?" he scoffs, laughing derisively at me. He comes closer, his hand gripping my arm and bringing me into him. "You forget one small detail,wife. 'Til death do us part.EitherI die first or you do; there's no going back. You're mine for the rest of your days, so you might as well get used to it."
Ignoring his words, I push him off and head for the door.
"Where do you think you're going?" His eyebrows shoot up, and he looks at me with wry amusement.
"Evidently, anywhere you'renot." I roll my eyes at him.
