Ugly Ronney: mafia romance [English]

Chapter 10-2

My aunts and mother listened carefully to the ten questions Hailey listed. At the end, my mom gave me an embarrassed smile and said, "These are not exactly easy questions."

"If Ronney were less introverted, it would be easier," my aunt Maria said to remove any guilt that might be building up in my mother.

I took a long breath to calm my resentment and my mind. Hailey asked the first question, taking care to articulate each word.

"What is Ronney's favorite color?"

Easy, I thought. Actually, no. Everyone went into deep thought. My mother, with her eyes closed, recited all the colors out loud, eliminating them one by one. I was trying not to bang my head against the table. Caleb, on the other hand, seemed to be searching through his memories to find the answer to this question that seemed so difficult for all of them.

"Purple!" she exclaimed, victorious.

Purple? Why purple? I've never worn purple, come on! My aunts nodded to congratulate my mother for finding my color.

Olivia said wearily, "So, Ronney, is that correct?"

It wasn't the color I had written on the sheet of paper I was holding in my hands. I could imagine my mother's disappointment when she found out she didn't even know my favorite color. She would blame herself all night. In an embarrassed tone, I searched for words.

"Yes, I hadn't thought of it first, but it's true--"

"Red! Her favorite color is red."

I froze as I heard the voice behind me. That intonation, that tone, and that scent were part of my daily life. I closed my eyes and focused on keeping myself together. My shoulders became lighter. For the first time, I was happy that he was here. Around the table, the effect was immediate. No one dared to move.

Yeraz sat down beside me. I raised my face to look into his eyes. At that moment, all my thoughts escaped me and disintegrated in my head. His dark eyes were filled with a deep mystery, characteristic of his well-kept secrets. He wasn't wearing a suit, just a black cashmere V-neck sweater and pants of the same color.

"Purple or red?" Aïdan became impatient.

Yeraz looked away from me and into my cousin's eyes.

Aïdan sat back on his chair with a frightened look. He repeated his question in a softer voice, "So, cousin? Is your answer red or purple?"

Hailey grabbed the paper and turned it over.

"I'll keep score. Ronney wrote red."

"Good job, Giovanni," Melissa said.

I couldn't hold back a small smile of satisfaction. My mother's embarrassed face didn't take away the sudden lightness that enveloped me. Yeraz wasn't looking at me. I could tell by his complexion that he wasn't well. Something was wrong.

"Tell me what's going on," I whispered.

"Nothing. Nothing's going on!"

He turned his face toward me. The memory of our kiss on the yacht flashed through my mind. Yeraz couldn't have forgotten it already. My cheeks flushed.

"Attention. This one is more complicated," Hailey continued. "What book is Ronney reading right now?"

"Perhaps we should move on to the next question?" I suggested uncomfortably. "No one knows the answer."

"Emily Dickinson," said Yeraz in a neutral voice. "It's always in your bag in case you have some free time during the day."

How could he know that? I only took the book out when I was sure I was alone. I opened my mouth, but no sound passed my lips. Yeraz carefully avoided my gaze.