Slowly rising in his chair, his voice cut like the ice in his eyes. “No daughter of mine will be caught dead with the spawn of Satan.”
“It was just a dance, Father.” She looked at him pitifully. “Sorry to break it to you, but you can’t kill Dominic for that or for being One-Shot.”
“If you continue to see him, you’ll be dead to me.”
With her head held high, she spun around, turning on her heel.
If he had acted differently, she might have had the heart to tell him that she had made no plans to do so. Dominic had locked that fucking door, and she knew it.
“Do you hear me, Maria?”
The farther she walked, the louder he got, and the more hatred he spewed.
“Dead to me!”
Maria didn’t fucking look back once.
Hearing the clicks of heels, Lucca took one final hit off his cigarette, drawing out the sweet taste until the little bit of tobacco burned into the filter.
From his seething anger, his father had to wipe the beads of sweat off his brow. Vinny, on the other hand, sat quietly, pulling together his thoughts like a good consigliere did.
“Don’t worry, Dad.” Coming over to the desk, Lucca pushed the butt of the stick into the glass ashtray that sat in front of his father, until it was crushed into almost nothing. “You were dead to us a long fucking time ago.”
Coming down the steps, Maria went through the foyer and into the living room to get Leo. What she hadn’t expected was the full audience, having thought everyone was at the penthouses in the casino hotel.
Leo.
Nero.
Elle.
Chloe.
Oh, great.
And Lucca.
She dressed up all the time so, maybe they won’t notice ….
“Why are you dressed up like you’re the one going to homecoming?” Nero was the only soul brave enough to ask the obvious.
Fuck.
It was the dress that gave it away. Yes, she wore dresses every day, but this one wasn’t one of her normal, fuck-me dresses that she wore on a daily basis. Wanting to look like a woman in a sea of high schoolers, she had picked a more mature cut. It had an off-the-shoulder, sweetheart neckline that flared out until halfway down her thighs, making her collarbones look tasty and her waist non-existent. The dead giveaway, however, was the color. Blood red.
Wishing she had picked the pink one—she might have gotten away with it—now all she could do was fucking sell it.
“Because I am.”
Narrowing his eyes, Nero was still too fucking brave for his own good. “Why?”
Leo picked up the water he’d had been drinking and took a sip, while Elle and Chloe side-eyed each other before glancing at their phones, pretending they were minding their own business.
“I was asked to volunteer,” she told them confidently, throwing a curled, blonde lock behind her shoulder.
Lucca, who had been too quiet sitting there, finally spoke, “By whom?”
Why did she fear saying this name to Lucca more than she feared saying Dominic’s to their father … “Kayne Evans.”
“Kayne Evans?” Nero was in disbelief. “As in, my used-to-be English teacher?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going on a date with Mr. Evans?” Still in disbelief.
“It’s not a date.”
“Well, it’s a fucking date dressed like that.”
Maria rolled her eyes. “Says who?”
“Says me. If Elle was dressed like that, it’d be a fucking date.”
About to ruin Nero’s fucking life, she then lost her train of thought when Lucca took his arm out from behind Chloe’s back where they were snuggled on the couch, got up alone, and started walking away.
Chloe, feeling the awkwardness from her fiancé, spoke up, “W-Well, I think you look very beautiful.”
“Yes. I hope you both have fun,” Elle agreed, trying to help.
The compliments went unnoticed as Maria’s eyes followed Lucca’s path into the kitchen, wondering why he hadn’t said anything.
Nero looked over at Leo. “Did you know about this?”
“Yeah. What’s the big deal?” Their youngest brother shrugged, pretending like it was nothing. Getting up from the couch, he went to stand beside his sister so they could leave in a hurry if she wanted.
“What the hell?” Nero darted his eyes across the room, clearly confused. “Why is no one saying anything?”
“What’s the matter?” Maria arched one of her brows, a sly smile tilting her lips. “I thought you would have liked Mr. Evans, considering that love letter you wrote for him about Elle.”
Chloe’s mouth dropped open. The strawberry blonde, whose hand was on Nero’s, lifted it to cover her own. Leo, of course, nearly died of laughter.
About to open his mouth again, Nero shut it and looked over at Lucca in the kitchen, waiting for him to speak. When nothing came out, he took over his usual role; however, learning his lesson not to talk about Kayne “Who the fuck is even going with you?”
“Jerry.” A.k.a. her new suit, which was actually one of her old suits who used to watch her back in high school. He was the only one willing to take on the job, since the last time ….