Page 43 of The Grumpy Billionaire's Mafia Princess

My mother has an aura of elegant grace that she developed after years of being Richard Steele’s wife. She’s a beautiful woman in her late fifties with delicate brown eyes and pin-straight black hair. I look nothing like her. I don’t know why that irks me, but it has always has.

“Four p.m. I still can’t believe Katerina asked me to a bridesmaid,” Mikayla says, beaming.

“You’ve said that at least twenty times, give it a rest, Kay. We know you’re happy.” I roll my eyes.

“Don’t be a sourpuss, Gray. I know you’re secretly pleased Xan asked you to be his best man.”

“He didn’t have a choice considering he has no close friends.”

And I’m pretty sure he did it to keep up appearances, as well. My brother and I still have complicated relationship, but in the past few months, we’ve grown closer, talking more often. It’s mostly business talk, but there’s no animosity like there was before. While we’re a long way from a close brotherly relationship, we’re working on it. That being said, I was shocked when he asked. And a little honored that he did. It’s a testament to how far we’ve come.

A few months ago, Xander would have rather stood in front of that church pew alone than ask me to do so beside him.

“Whatever you say,” my sister says. “When will you come to New York?”

“A day before the bachelor party,” I reply.

Mikayla arches an eyebrow. “You can’t come sooner? It’s your brother’s wedding. Isn’t it the best man’s responsible to plan the bachelor party?”

“Sure, but I hired an event planner for the job.” I smirk.

Mikayla glares. “You’re annoying.”

The bachelor party’s only a formality—something else Xander’s only doing for appearance’s sake. Most of the men coming are from families that have an alliance with ours one way or another. In our world, genuine relationships are rare.

Growing up, people only liked us for our last name. In high school and college, Xander and I simply leaned into that reality, tried to enjoy it. By the time he finished college, though, my brother was too busy for friends. He had a kid to take care of and he started working in the company.

“Mom, did you already pick up your dress?” Mikayla questions, already moving on.

She opens her mouth to reply, but my father cuts in.

“Mikayla, I believe we’ve all heard enough about the wedding. If you don’t have anything else to say, then keep further discussions relating to the topic until after dinner.”

Silence fills the room and the tension turns up a notch. Mikayla clears her throat, shifting in her seat. I think she forgot Father was there since he’s been so silent the entire night. She practically shrinks and my jaw clenches at the sight.

I don’t say anything, though. It’s not like we’re not used to it. A minute or two later, my father looks at my mother, addressing her.

“Ava, ask someone to bring another wine. I’m no longer in the mood for white.”

My mother nods and, like a robot, she gets to her feet to fulfil his request. He could have said it kindly. She’s not his maid. This is the reason I can’t be in the same room as both of them. Because he treats her like dirt and I hate having to watch it.

My hand tightens around the fork in my hand. I promised myself I wouldn’t lose it tonight. It’s not like it’ll change anything. So I stay quiet, I finish my meal, I reply politely when I’m addressed. And as soon as we’re dismissed, I leave.

My mother must have been anticipating my quick departure because she manages to catch up to me.

“Graham,” she says softly.

I suck in a deep breath before turning around. “Hey, Mom,” I greet.

“Hi, sweetheart. How are you doing? You didn’t say a word to me at dinner.”

“Because I had nothing to say.”

She nods. “That’s okay. I just wanted to check up on you. You’ve lost weight, honey. I really don’t understand why you insist on staying in that house all by yourself when you could live here.”

I level her with a hard stare. “You don’t understand? Really, Mom?”

She can’t seriously be asking me that, especially after that disaster of a dinner.

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