Dad, however, looked as if he was about ready to hunt Giovanni down. “What happened?” His words, even if they were the same as Mom’s, held a very different meaning. I could see that he was already imagining all the horrible things Giovanni might have done to upset me, and how to make him pay tenfold for his transgression. “What did he do?”
“Nothing,” I said firmly. That was the problem. I couldn’t tell Dad the exact reasons why I had broken up with Giovanni, especially because they were the reasons why Dad probably would have chosen him. They were most definitely the reasons why Dad had allowed me to date Giovanni in the first place. Dad could read people and he’d probably smelled from a mile away that Giovanni was too cowardly to ever touch me.
Dad looked at Amo as if he hoped my brother would prove my words wrong, but Amo only shrugged as if he didn’t have the slightest clue and would rather die than suffer another moment of his hangover.
Mom’s eyes softened further. “Maybe you and Giovanni can fix it?”
“No,” I said immediately. If I returned to Giovanni, that would only happen out of habit and because I hated the prospect of an uncertain future, but those weren’t good enough reasons to continue a relationship. “I just realized I don’t love him. I don’t want to settle for less than what you have.”
Mom smiled softly. “Sometimes love takes time. Your father and I weren’t in love when we married.”
“I know. You didn’t even choose to marry but it didn’t take you years to love each other. Giovanni and I have been together for more than two years, but I don’t love him, and I never have.”
Dad finally rose from the chair as well. “There must have been an event that made you realize this.”
“There wasn’t, Dad. Honestly. I’ve realized it a while ago but I didn’t want to give up too quickly, especially knowing that it might reflect badly on you and Mom if I break off the relationship and worse, our engagement. The Famiglia is still stuck in the Middle Ages in some regards.”
Mom nodded but Dad still eyed me as if he expected me to give him a more satisfying answer to his question. “I’m going to have a word with Giovanni.”
My eyes widened in alarm, and Mom warned, “Luca, that’s Marcella’s decision.”
“It is her decision but I should still talk to Giovanni and see what he has to say.”
“In his defense, you mean,” I added angrily. I loved my dad and his protectiveness, but sometimes it went too far.
“It’s my job to make sure you don’t get harmed.”
I lost it. “But you are the reason why it didn’t work out in the first place! So if you want to find an answer to your question then you have to look in the mirror.”
“Watch your tone,” Dad said firmly, then he frowned. “Now explain. I supported your relationship with Giovanni. Didn’t I?” he asked, turning to Mom.
“After your initial resentments, you were in favor of the relationship, yes,” Mom said neutrally.
Amo stifled a grin, but I was far from being amused.
“You were in favor of Giovanni because of how easily you could control him. He was always eager for your approval. You could be sure he’d never do anything you didn’t want.”
“I don’t see a problem.”
“Of course, you don’t. But what I want should matter in a relationship and not your wishes!”
“I am who I am, Marcella. My reputation carries even beyond our circles. Few men have the bravery to disregard my wishes. That’s something you’ll have to accept. I’m giving you more freedoms than most girls have, far more freedoms than your mother ever had, but you’ll always be bound by certain rules.”
“I guess then I’ll just have to find someone who has the balls to stand up to you,” I gritted out.
“Language,” Mom said.
I shook my head and stalked off.
“Breakfast isn’t finished,” Dad reminded me, but I ignored him.
I headed straight for my room and flung myself on my bed, letting out a frustrated cry. Who would have the guts to go against Dad’s wishes? Giovanni and all the other Famiglia soldiers even tried to anticipate Dad’s unvoiced wishes. A man like that would never make me happy. But the normal guys I met in college were even worse. They barely glanced my way because they worried Dad would chase them Al Capone style. They didn’t know any real facts about the Famiglia but even their imagination was bad enough to keep them at arms’ length. If they really knew what Dad was capable of, they’d run away crying. No, I could never respect a man like that.
I stared up at the ceiling blankly. Maybe someone from another mob family. But I had absolutely no intention to move to the West Coast, nor to become a part of the Camorra. They were too crazy for my taste. And someone from the Outfit? I might as well just put a bullet in Dad’s heart.