Page 148 of In Love and Revenge

‘Evening, Dad.’ I nod at him as his attention fixes on Aurora. ‘This is Aurora, my girlfriend. She’s moved in with me.’ Might as well get straight to the point.

He does a good job of not over-reacting, but I know my father. The slight hitch of his brows tells me he’s zoned in on that nugget of information, already dissecting its meaning. I’ve never lived with a woman before. Sure, some have stayed at my place for a few days here and there, but I’ve never made anything permanent. Never felt the desire to.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’ He takes Aurora’s hand and shakes it, studying her with an interested smile.

‘You too,’ Aurora replies. ‘Thank you for having me join you all for dinner tonight.’

‘My son told us there was someone he wanted us to meet. We were intrigued, weren’t we, Hill?’ he calls to my mother. ‘Tell me, what makes you so taken with my son? Because I know it’s not his jokes.’ He chuckles.

‘Quit bombarding the poor girl, Stan,’ Mum scolds. ‘She’s barely walked through the door.’

My jaw tightens. He thinks he’s being funny, but I hear the digs, loud and clear. But what hurts most is what heisn’tsaying. He should just ask outright, ‘What do you see in my son? A man who almost cost us Fairfax Guardian once?’ Because that golden topic will come up sooner or later. Maybe it’ll take a few visits, but it will happen. He won’t be able to stop himself.

My father glances at my stony expression and chortles. ‘Ah, it’s his easy-going nature.’

Aurora hesitates, clearly uncomfortable as she picks up on his sarcasm. ‘Well—’

‘It’s his big dick, isn’t it, bro? Runs in the family.’

Angelo walks in, grabbing his crotch lewdly, and despite the vulgarity of his arrival, I could kiss him for arriving in time to stop me from telling my father where to shove his dinner invitation before whisking Aurora back out of here.

‘Angelo!’ my mother tuts.

‘Please don’t talk about my best friend and my brother’s dick in the same sentence,’ Dove scoffs. ‘I still have to eat dinner.’

Benedict runs over from beside Gabe and starts rubbing my mother’s calves until she bends and feeds him a piece of chicken from the roasted one on the counter.

‘Don’t encourage the fleabag, Hillary,’ my father scolds. ‘It’ll be doing its business in the garden next.’

‘Benedict uses the lavatory,’ Gabe chimes in. ‘And I’ve trained him to flush. He has better aim than any of you.’

Dove snorts out a laugh and Aurora’s shoulders relax as she flicks her gaze to meet mine, biting back a giggle.

‘Welcome to the family,’ I grit with a tight smile.

Twenty minutes later, we’re sitting at the dinner table, listening to my father talk about some old business colleague of his who died of a suspected heart attack while jet-skiing.

‘Got to take chances. Hugh went doing what he loved. No point living like a coward and being afraid to do anything,’ my father says.

‘Pretty sure ignoring your doctor’s advice when you’re awaiting surgery is just being reckless, but ...’ I tilt my head, knocking back a large mouthful of wine.

‘Of course you’d see it like that,’ my father mutters.

‘Rafe’s right,’ Dove chimes in. ‘Hugh took a risk against medical advice, and now he’s dead.’

‘Straight to the point, sis.’ Angelo chuckles, draining his glass for the third time since we sat down.

‘Ten to fifteen per cent of sudden cardiac deaths in men over fifty is the result of vigorous activity,’ Gabe contributes calmly, Benedict sitting in his lap. ‘Most occur during running, heavy gardening, or sex. Jet-skiing is an interesting one.’ He strokes Benedict’s ear, his expression unchanged.

‘Was Hugh having sex whilst jet-skiing?’ Angelo asks.

‘Angelo,’ my mother scolds.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ my father chides.

Angelo shrugs, refilling his glass with what’s left in the wine bottle. ‘Thought it was a relevant question following Gabe’s statistics.’

I throw him a look to tell him to ease up on the wine, but he shakes his head, lifting the glass to his lips. He drinks to get through dinner with our father. It’s his coping mechanism, but more often than not, things get messy if he goes too far. My father’s never been one to back down from confrontation with anyone, his own flesh and blood or not.