Page 186 of Plaything

[She’s young... at least we know she’s not with them for their wealth.]

I chewed the inside of my lip, knowing I wasn’t meant to understand what she said. I wasn’t insulted by her speculations; I would have thought similarly if I was looking at our relationship from an outside perspective. Still, I wanted his parents to like me—unfortunately, I was coming off as a gold digger.

My eyes flicked to Niko to gauge his reaction, but he was shooting daggers at the side of his mother’s head.

Mateo’s shoulders dropped slightly as he let out a small, inaudible breath. He placed his hands on his wife’s shoulders before responding in his own language. “Sí, ella sola tiene mucho de eso. Sé amable, mi amor. La chica ya está bastante nerviosa sin tu escrutinio.”

[Yes, she has plenty of that on her own. Be kind, my love. The girl is nervous enough without your scrutiny.]

“She speaks Italian, mother,” Niko informed bluntly. “And Spanish,” he added. “Non tollererò che nessuno le manchi di rispetto. Voi due non ne siete esclusi. Sono chiaro?” The Italian rolled off his tongue effortlessly as if he had no reservations about scolding his parents.

[I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting her. The two of you are not excluded from that. Am I clear?]

I hated that there was even a hint of conflict, but from Niko and Mateo’s smile, I knew it wasn’t an actual argument. Butterflies swarmed in my stomach at his response. Even in front of his parents, he was proud that I was his—that I was theirs.

Isabella’s tight mouth smile turned genuine as she took in her son. “Ti abbiamo cresciuto bene,” she patted his hand gently, a proud expression before she turned back to me. “My apologies, Cara. Where did you learn our languages?” She asked, her tone more civil than before.

[We raised you right.]

I folded my hands behind my back, hiding my nervous twiddling—although Aiden’s father would see. “I traveled a lot. I knew five languages by the time I was 15,” I explained.

“Pretty and smart,” Aiden’s father chimed behind me, making our group turn to him. He had Aiden’s electric eyes, only they were dull. It was apparent life had taken its toll on the man. He had a glass with dark liquor in it that he’d been nursing. “Well done, boys,” he jokingly winked at my professors.

Bury me.

Aiden forced a sarcastic smile at his father. “Stop talking, I beg of you,” he said through his teeth, making Wyatt and Niko chuckle. Aiden looked less than thrilled as he gave me an apologetic glance. “Odette, this old drunk is my father, Walt. You’ll have to excuse him; he doesn’t have a filter.”

“Is that where you get it?” I shot, shaking Walt’s hand while smiling at him. Aiden smirked, gently shaking his head.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Little Lady. I think I can speak for Isabella, Mateo, Dominic’s dad (wherever he’s been hiding), and Wyatt’s folks that we are very happy to meet you. We didn’t think they’d ever bring a woman home,” he nudged me.

He must not have been informed of Dominic’s father’s passing. From the unbothered expression on Dominic’s face, it wouldn’t be mentioned anytime soon.

In response, I smiled. This was going well—much better than it could’ve gone. Considering my only troublesome moments were holding a baby and Isabella’s worries about my age... I’d call this a win. No one was screaming, and the house wasn’t on fire.

“The pleasures all mine, really,” I glanced at my handsome professors before addressing the parental units again. “You did a wonderful job raising them,” I complimented.

“Y’all look like you could use these!” A loud voice chuckled from behind me, making me jump. “Hey, Killer!” Pops put a bottle of whisky and shot glasses on the table before wrapping his arms around me in a big hug. “Thanks for coming,” he whispered.

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, giving it a squeeze as he greeted the others. “Don’t let the skirt and bow fool ‘ya, she tried to kill me the first time I met her,” he teased.

“I did no such thing!” I shook my head and smirked at Wyatt.

Pops widened his eyes at the group. “Whatever she says. Just don’t let her get a hold of the cookin’ tongs,” he chuckled. He let go of me and began pouring shots of dark whisky.

Isabella moved closer to me until she hooked her arm with mine. “Mi dispiace per quello che ho detto prima. Rendi mio figlio molto felice e per questo ti sono grato. Sono passati molti anni dall’ultima volta che li ho visti sorridere come fanno adesso,” she gave my arm a squeeze.

[I’m sorry for what I said before. You make my son very happy, and for that, I am grateful. It’s been many years since I’ve seen any of them smile the way they are now.]

Bashfully, I glanced down at her admittance. “Anche loro mi rendono molto felice. Non sono cresciuto in una grande famiglia come Wyatt o con due genitori che si amano. Incontrandoti, capisco perché sono così gentiluomini,” I explained, taking the opportunity to respond in her language.

[They make me very happy, too. I was not raised in a big family like Wyatt or with two parents who love each other. Meeting you, I understand why they are such gentlemen.]

She pressed her lips together in a heartwarming smile. “Come madre, non riesco a pensare a complimento migliore.” She perked up, giving my hand an excited tap. “Il tuo italiano è molto buono, Cara! Meglio di quello di Niko,” she laughed.

[As a mother, I can think of no better compliment. Your Italian is very good, Cara! Better than Niko’s.]

Niko handed me a small glass of whisky before wrapping his arm around me. “You’re lucky I learned Italian at all. With Dad speaking Spanish, you speaking Italian, and everyone else speaking English, I didn’t know what words went with which language for most of my childhood,” he joked.

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