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Vittorio’s eyes snap to mine. “Do you have something to say?” he demands.
I shake my head, but the words are already bubbling up, too potent to suppress. “No, just a whore observing the family dynamics. You play your sons against each other and then get angry when they compete. So, I was just admiring your parenting techniques,” I reply, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
The room falls silent for a heartbeat, and then Vittorio explodes. “You insolent—”
I stand up, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. Anger flares within me, emboldened by the shit I just witnessed.
“I see why you are the way you are with this prick for a father!” I direct my gaze towards Leone, surprising myself with the intensity of my own words. “I can’t believe I’m actually going to say this, but I think I found someone I hate more than you!”
Dante, quick to inflame the situation, jumps in. “I knew it; she is a whore!” he yells, pointing a shaking finger at me.
I cut him a sharp glare. “No, I am not a whore. And just because I hate my husband doesn’t mean I don’t love him,” I snap back, suddenly realizing the room’s attention is fixed solely on me. “What’s that Facebook status… oh that’s right, it’s complicated, isn’t that right, Muffin?” I add quickly, recalling the facade of a devoted wife I am supposed to maintain.
Leone, who has been silent until now, stands as well, his expression unreadable. He moves closer to me.
“Are you going to let her speak to me this way!” his father demands, and I can see Leone is livid that I didn’t just keep my mouth shut. But I have been called a whore one too many times, and it’s not even lunch.
“What I said was purely an observation, but if the shoe fits,” I shrug, folding my arms across my chest.
Leone’s eyes meet mine, wide with surprise, and for a moment, I see something flicker in them. Beside Vittorio, Milo has risen from his seat, his expression a mix of shock and amusement.
Vittorio’s face, however, is a mask of fury, his eyes narrowing into slits. “Is that so?” he hisses. “Perhaps you’re too bold for your own good, signorina.”
Suddenly, Milo is by my side, his hand grabbing my arm. “I guess that is my cue to escort her out. Leone, we’ll be by the pool if you’re looking for us,” Milo states, pulling me gently but insistently towards the door.
“Yes, before she pisses the old man off, and he puts a bullet in her head…” Dante begins, he shakes his head. “Bitch is more ballsy than half our men talking to you like that.” Dante directs his father.
“Of course, she would be snagging a Pressutti man. Lydia also believed she could get away with such disrespect, but that didn’t end well for her,” Vittorio states, as I stop to find him glaring at me. “My son won’t save you from me, girl; just remember that.” And he turns his gaze to Leone.
“And you will deal with that chip she has on her shoulder, Leone, or you and I will come to blows. Like your brother said, she is probably some gold digger we will have to get rid of, so it’s no skin off my nose if I deliver that order early,” he says.
“Yes, Muffin, knock that chip off my shoulder,” I bite back snarkily, and Milo’s grip on my arm grows tighter.
“And for Christ’s sake, do not let her call you that in public; save it for the bedroom, calling a Pressutti man Muffin,” Vittorio states with disgust.
“She can call me what she likes. I married her, not you. But this conversation is now over.”
Without another word, Milo leads me out of the dining room and up to our room.
“He is going to tan your ass red for calling him Muffin,” Milo snickers.
“What’s his father’s deal anyway? Who talks to their son like that?” I shudder. No wonder Leone is such a prick with a father like that.
“You’re lucky to have left that room alive. For one, you don’t address Vittorio out of turn. Secondly, you don’t challenge him. Thirdly, you certainly don’t disrespect him.” I roll my eyes.
“So his father can call me a whore, but I must say thank you, sir, sorry, sir?” I snap.
“Exactly!” Milo states.
“Whatever, I don’t give a fuck who his father is; it’s bad enough I have to put up with the two of you; I refuse to be called a whore by some old asshole with a god complex!” I retort.
Milo grabs my arm, jerking me to a stop.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed? You just caused a scene with the head of the family; Leone may own his father’s empire, but Vittorio is still well-respected within this city; his word is still law unless you want Leone to go to war with every criminal family in this city!” Milo snaps. “What you do reflects on Leone; just remember that!” Milo adds, letting me go. He motions to the stairs.
“Now get upstairs and put your swimmers on!”
“I don’t own swimmers! Want me to swim fucking naked?” I snap at him, and he grits his teeth.
