Page 19 of Her Overprotective Fiance

"In any case..." Maryse gives me another once over. "You look really good. Much, much better than the last time we saw each other."

I shrug for the third time, and the other woman clucks her tongue. "You're supposed to return the compliment, and I rather thought you'd know this, living with New England's most well-manneredfamiglia."

"La Strega—-"

The other girl chokes at how I've openly referred to Boston's ruling matriarch.

"—-and I have a deal. I'll play by the rules when the occasion calls for it, but other than that, I can do whatever the hell I want."

"How surprisingly lenient."

My lips tighten. That'sexactlywhat I think, too. The old woman hasn't made a single comment about anything I've done, and that says everything in my book.

"Life's good then." Maryse's words draw my attention back to her. "Right?"

"Yeah, sure."

"And yet you sound anythingbut." Maryse's gaze narrows. "Spit it out, Sarica. Are you having problems?"

"Did I say I was?"

"You may not have anything to say, but your school record certainly implies a lot of things."

"When I see people being bullied, am Inotsupposed to do anything?"

Maryse releases a soft sigh, but the sound still makes the other patrons around us jump in their seats.

Sheesh.

I'm pretty sure Maryse's sigh reminded them of how she used to make the exact same sound when she was still the Angel of Death, and how that sound typically leads to someone's execution and exile.

"I know this is going to sound rich coming from me, but it's also because of how my lifeused to bethat I have every right to say—-"

"Violence isn't the answer?" I ask sarcastically.

Maryse didn't even crack a smile. "Pick your battles, Sarica."

Shit.

"And be sure to make each one count."

I will never ever admit this, but I see the former Angel of Death as the Mr. Miyagi to my Julie. I want to be like her when I grow up, but at the same time, I also hate how her words always hit me hard.

"I'm just sick of feeling like a brick around everyone's neck," I mutter under my breath.

"That's how youfeel, but is it warranted? Has anyone said or done anything to justify—-"

"Why do I suddenly feel like I'm being cross-examined?" I ask testily.

"If youwerebeing cross-examined, you've just established your own guilt by refusing to answer a simple question with 'yes' or 'no'."

My mouth opens and closes.

Shit.

I think I just got served, and I hate it.

Maryse shakes her head at me. "You shouldn't make any assumptions—-"

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