Vengeance.
It's something I've been taught as the son of a cruel mafia don; something I've comforted myself with for years.
When the one thing that kept me grounded is yanked away so ruthlessly, it's only in my nature to strike out in the only way...
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"What? Did you think you were going to seduce our husbands and sons if you bared it all?" I heard one of my aunts ask as I walked up to the dining hall.
So, they were taking advantage of the fact that I wasn't in the dining hall.
"That's enough, Maria," Daniella intervened. "I'm sure she didn't mean it that way."
I pushed the doors open, making my presence known.
"Oh, Nicholas. Thank goodness you're here," Maria cried, her voice high-pitched.
"What's going on, Maria?" I asked, walking over to my seat at the other end of the table where Giselle was already seated to my right.
"It seems like your wife lacks manners. She insulted me in front of everyone. Imagine her calling me a lazy, old hag who goes about spending her husband's money."
Giselle was slack-jawed. "I never said that!"
"Now, you're calling me a liar?"
"That's because you're lying. That never happened. You can ask anyone at this table. I never said..."
"That's enough from you!" Maria's husband thundered, slamming his hand down on the table. "I will not have you come into our family and disrespect my wife."
I chuckled to myself at his display of dominance. He turned wide-eyed a few seconds later after realizing what he had just done.
"First, I'm gonna pretend you didn't just disrespect my wife, and to an extent, me, by shouting at her." I turned to face Maria. "Pretty bold of you to assume my wife dressed up for anyone in this room. She could show up naked, and all of you would have to cover your eyes because not doing so would be disrespecting me as the head of this family. Let's refrain from such activities, yes?"
The threat was obvious. I wouldn't hesitate to punish any of them for disrespecting Giselle.
Maria's face turned the shade of a tomato as she looked down at her plate. From the corner of my eyes, I could feel Giselle's eyes on me, but I didn't look at her.
Matteo's eyes met mine, and the testa di cazzo was covering his smile with his hand. I rolled my eyes at him, digging into my food.
The conversation continued around the table, everyone soon forgetting the bullshit Maria and her husband had pulled.
I'd just taken another bite of my pasta when I felt a hand on my thigh. When I looked up, Giselle was already staring at me.
"Thank you," she whispered so only I could hear her.
"I didn't do it for you," I bit out, and at this point, I wasn't sure if I was saying that to convince myself or her.
I just knew seeing her get humiliated by my family didn't sit well with me.
