Page 126 of The Deal

“I’ve warned you about calling her that.”

The heat in his voice is unmistakable. I can feel the fury radiating off his body, like a quiet storm about to erupt. His muscles are tense, and his jaw is clenched tight. I reach out instinctively, placing my hand on his arm.

Sophia lifts her chin, unbothered. “Get my son so we can go.”

“Go where?” Alexander asks.

“Luigi and I are taking him out to lunch.”

“In that piece of shit?” my husband asks, flicking his chin towards the car they arrived in. “We didn’t agree to that.”

She stabs her claw-like finger in the air in his direction. “He’smyson … I amhismother. I don’t need your permission.”

“Where are you taking him?”

“There’s a place not far from here.”

“What’s it called?”

“Trattoria Angelo,” she says without missing a beat. “I haven’t seen my kid in months. We didn’t drive all this way for a quick hug. I want to spend some time with him and talk to him about school. I’ll bring him back when I’m done.”

I don’t like this one bit, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

“Why are you so interested all of a sudden? Not once have you even bothered to ask.”

“Like I told you, I’ve been busy … today I’m not.”

“Text me the restaurant’s address, and I’ll come and get him in two hours.”

“Fine.”

Alexander reluctantly opens the back door and helps Giovanni out of the car. As soon as she sees him, Sophia’s face softens, and she crouches down, arms wide in a false display of affection. “My baby,” she coos, her voice sickly sweet; it makes me cringe.

I have to turn my head away. Not only do I want to avoid the scene—because I can’t stomach watching her try to play the doting mother after everything—but her dress is so short that I’m likely to catch a glimpse of what she had for breakfast. I bite my lip, pushing the image from my mind, my stomach turning.

Sophia’s manipulation is as transparent as her outfit, and it’s hard not to feel disgusted by her.

“Say goodbye to your father,” Sophia demands, her voice sharp as she holds Giovanni by the shoulders.

Giovanni’s eyes widen, his face contorting with confusion and a flicker of panic. He looks up at his father as if searching for reassurance. “You said I was coming back with you,” he whispers, his tiny voice trembling.

Alexander’s expression softens, but there’s a quiet frustration in his tone. “You are, buddy,” he replies, crouching to meet his son’s eyes. “Your mother’s just going to take you somewhere for lunch. Chloe and I will come and get you soon.”

“Okay,” Giovanni mumbles, but the dejection in his voice tugs at my heartstrings, making it harder to stay composed.

He hugs his father, holding on longer than necessary, like he’s afraid to let go. When he finally pulls away, he turns to me, and the hint of sadness in his eyes tears me up inside. “Bye, Mummy.”

My heart aches at the sound of those words, but before I can respond, Sophia’s shrill voice cuts through the air. “What did you just call her?” she shrieks, her hand shootingout to roughly grab Giovanni’s arm, tugging him toward her with a force that makes me flinch.

“Hey!” Alexander roars, fury in his voice as he steps forward, his eyes burning with anger. “Don’t you dare grab him like that.”

Sophia’s eyes snap to him; she says nothing, but her gaze is full of venom. When her attention returns to Giovanni, she spits, “That woman is not your mother.” Her words are dripping with hatred. “Don’t you ever let me hear you call her that again.”

Giovanni shrinks back from her, but it’s like a knife twisting in my chest. Her words cut deep, not just for me, but for him.

Chapter 37

Alexander

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