“Come, join us for lunch. Rafael had to take a meeting and will miss out, but I’m sure you are hungry after your morning activities.” My asshole father-in-law’s meaning is fully clear. He’s letting everyone know, especially Santino, that Rafael fucked me before he left.
Controlling the flood of embarrassment coursing through me, I smile and politely decline. “Hardly. In fact, I find that I don’t have an appetite.” If I didn’t feel dirty enough before, now I feel just foul.
“Nonsense, Giada. You will sit and eat. You’ll need your strength while carrying the next family heir.”
“You’re pregnant?” Santino utters in barely disguised disgust. His reaction is the only thing stopping me from losing my shit. For some reason I want to reassure him that I’m not pregnant. I’ve only seen the one picture of him, and he’s nothing like the man in front of me. He’s handsome either way, but that smile I saw in that old photo doesn’t match the man that’s doing some wrong things to my heart. It’s fear. Yes, that’s what I tell myself. Nothing but fear and maybe lust.
“Not yet.” I’m shocked and my heart dances when he releases a sigh of relief at that revelation.
“Soon. We hope.” My father-in-law is trying to stick the point to Santino. I stand straight up and look away from Santino and remember that I’m a married woman even if I’m devastatingly unhappy.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know anything about your family.”
“She’s Avanti’s youngest daughter.” My father-in-law doesn’t allow me to answer for myself, which is common. I feel like a six-year-old’s puppet. They throw me around like a rag doll, have me married to Mr. Potato Head, and speak for me as they dictate my every move.
“How old are you, Giada?” He pointedly looks at his father, catching the way he’s controlling me.
“I’m nineteen.” I get out before I’m spoken for again. It pisses my asshole father-in-law off, and inside I do a little happy dance while maintaining a neutral expression on my face.
“A little young to be married, no?” Before I can find something to say, the maid comes in and alerts us that lunch is prepared.
Santino takes my arm and hooks it under his. “Come.” My in-laws walk together, and he pulls out my chair for me. He pushes it in, and I could swear he sniffs my hair as he stands straight.
I need to ignore the way he sends a rush of excitement through me. It’s wrong and futile. He’s no different. I heard he would be locked away forever, but then I overheard Rafael say his brother had been falsely accused and the real killer confessed. There should have been a parade for their son, but the only one who cared was Signora Marchetti.
“So, Giada, how is life here in the family compound?” he questions, taking a bite of his salad. For a man who’s been in prison, he’s finding the meal unappealing.
“Wonderful.” I lie through my teeth. Does he believe me? I stare at him wondering a lot of things that don’t make sense to me. How can I want to run my hands over his taut jaw?
“Nice.” I can’t read him, but a cough from Signor Marchetti calls my attention. I turn to him and see a grimace that is subtle and yet says so much. I’m going to be in trouble.
“Son, what are your plans?” It’s clear that he’s trying to drag us out of our little trance. Damn it, I’m hoping that he doesn’t tell Rafael.
“Well, I still have my company. Tonight, I deal with some transitions, but I’m back in the office come next week to run my company the way I’ve always wanted.”
“That’s great to hear. I’m surprised they were able to maintain your rights as the owner.” I want to ask questions, but I’m not allowed to speak unless spoken to. I open and close my mouth several times, itching to hear him speak directly to me. Why am I doing this? I shouldn’t even register his existence because he’s no different than his father and brother.
My father-in-law takes a drink of his wine, then looks at me and then to Santino. “Do you know the D’Angelos have a daughter that would be perfect for you?”
“Are you talking about Suzette?” Signora Marchetti asks. I try to remain calm, but the vision of him marrying her only pisses me off.
“Yes, my dear.” Immediately the pangs of jealousy hit me. I know who they are talking about. I knew her from before I married Rafael. She’s beautiful and willing to bed anyone, including Rafael if he would have met her.
“I’m not interested,” he answers after swallowing his bite of food.
“Why not?”
He steals a look my way before he says, “I’m not in the hunt for a wife. And I doubt the D’Angelos would take too kindly to me playing with their daughter.”
“She’s a whore anyway,” I let slip.
I flinch, waiting for the venom to come from Signor Marchetti’s mouth, but instead he just chuckles. “Yes, Giada is right. She wouldn’t mind a little fun now that you’ve been locked away so long.”
My mother-in-law looks at both men and scolds them. “Rafael, Santino, is this the talk you should be having at the table? You could have this talk later in private.”
“Sorry, Mama,” Santino apologizes. “I suppose prison has made me forget my manners.”
“I apologize as well, my dear.” He never calls her that. Is he only doing that because Santino’s here?
The lunch is short and to the point. Santino’s phone rings, but he doesn’t answer it. Instead, he stands and says, “Thank you. I’m sorry, but I must go. There’s a
