Page 198 of Vexatious Queen

“So, Vicky, where do you see yourself after high school,” Romeo asked.

“I’m still trying to decide,” she said.

I took a mouthful of the Italian wedding soup and moaned. It was delicious.

“Have you applied to a college or university?” Romeo continued to probe.

Vicky fidgeted under Romeo’s condescending stare.

“No, not yet. I may not go to college. Is that a problem for you?”

“Just trying to gauge how you see yourself as a wife. More traditional or independent? Your strong…opinions don’t really make you suitable for traditional,” Romeo said.

The statement landed softly, almost politely, which somehow made it worse.

Vicky looked like she was ready to breathe fire at Romeo.

“I see. Well, would you rather marry someone who challenges you, or someone who knows their place and never says a word?”

The table went still. Not silent. I could hear everyone breathing, cutlery still shifted, and the pounding of my heart in my ears was loud—but the air was heavy. I felt it in my chest before anyone answered.

Ronan chose that moment to join the conversation. He leaned back in his chair, fingers laced, expression composed in that distant, assessing kind of way.

“Challenge is useful,” he said evenly. “But only when it comes from discipline. Chaos isn’t the same thing. I think what Romeo wants to know is, what do you bring to the union?”

Vicky’s smile flickered like she refused to let anyone see the hit land. It was true, Vicky could be all chaos, but there was a lot more to her than that. It was how she protected herself, what you saw first, what she let you see, but if you got to know her, there were many more layers.

Romeo’s gaze slid to Vicky. He didn’t look at her with interest, but with something closer to evaluation.

“Yes, exactly. A wife should understand the role she’s stepping into. Partnership doesn’t mean friction. It means listening, knowing your place, and perfect alignment.”

Alignment? What the hell did that mean? Think like me and never talk back. Never have an opinion.

Vicky laughed.

“So, what you’re both saying is that you want a woman who challenges you—just not too much,” she said, with a charming smile on her face. “Someone impressive, but only when it’s convenient. Basically, arm candy that can chat up a room full of business associates, flash some cleavage, and make you look good. But…only if she knows when to shut up. Be seen and not heard. Don’t speak unless spoken to, right?”

Romeo shrugged, unapologetic.

“I want peace in my home, and if that means that my woman learns her place, then so be it.”

Vicky’s fingers tightened around her glass, knuckles whitening.

“Then you’re not looking for a partner,” she said, voice steady but brittle. “You’re looking for furniture. Maybe buy yourself a couch instead. That way, you can even let your friends use it.”

That did it.

Romeo’s eyes locked on Vicky, cool and unreadable.

“And you seem…exhausting.”

His words hit harder than shouting ever could. I felt it ripple across the table. This wasn’t courtship. This was a polite rejection, delivered with surgical precision on Romeo’s part.

“Wow…what century were you born in,” Vicky asked, slowly standing to glare at Romeo. I was silently cheering for Vicky. “I am not afraid to say that I’m incredible, or that I have a lot to offer, whether you want to see that or not. And not that I owe you an explanation, but I have not chosen a college or university yet because, if I choose to go, I want to attend a school close to the home that I will share with my husband. I want to be useful in my marriage and not simply sit around the house. Where I go to school and what courses I take will depend on my future husband’s location and business. If you want to paint me as some useless, brainless gold digger, then go for it, but I dare say that I have a lot more to offer than you do.”

Vicky sat back down, her spine straight, lips pressed together, absorbing it all like armor forged under heat. And for the first time, I didn’t see her as dramatic or reckless or too much. I saw her as a fierce woman, and I smiled. That was impressive.

Romeo picked up his drink and then turned to Vicky, obviously ready to keep the argument going.