Page 22 of Mafia Heiress
Dante follows me into the kitchen and takes a seat at the island, watching me intently. He runs his hands across the smooth surface, tracking me as I’m banging the fridge and cabinets open.
I place two wine glasses on the counter and fill them up with the Pino I uncorked before. Cupcakes get plated and I throw away the cardboard box from the bakery. It’s not pastries, tonight called for extra sweets.
I gulp down the wine before Dante can even grab his glass. I refill and take a seat next to him.
“You’re upset.” Not a question, just facts.
“Do you know how many times I’m told that I don’t need to worry because I’m a woman? The heiress that will never inherit the throne. Someone who will always be taken care of by a man? I’m not a demure woman, waiting for her knight. I am the fucking knight and people need to start realizing that.”
I shove half the cupcake in my mouth, not caring about manners. I need a sugar rush, and fast. My anger is so palatable that I think I could form it into a weapon. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the family, but sometimes I’d like to punch people.
“No one thinks of you as weak, but you know how it goes. Women and kids aren’t involved.”
I slam my hand on the counter. “What the fuck happened tonight? Annette was shot, I don’t even know if she died. They knocked Cal out with some fucking medicine, and now I’m here stuck in my ivory tower.”
“You’re right, the Vitucci brothers went overboard, but it’s not your fault and no one expects you to take over.”
“You sure are pretty, but dense as fuck.”
I grab my wine and another cupcake, and make my way back to the couch. I click on the remote before Dante sits down next to me.
“I understand what you’re feeling…”
“No, you fucking don’t. Imagine you couldn’t walk out that door without telling your father where you’re going. Imagine that you had to hold your keys in your hands when you walk to your car at night, or have security up your ass because no one thinks you can take care of yourself.”
I swallow down another sip of wine and focus on his face. “There are things that men will never understand. They go right over your head and don’t register. I will tell you this though, I was never meant to be a girl. I’m a fucking woman and I will take it all, whether you fuckers are there or not.”
My face is flaming and my scalp prickles with anger. This is an old argument. Something that I’ve fought for my whole life - to be heard. They will never understand truly, but I expect my husband to understand that I’m as important as he is.
He takes another sip, considering me, and the flame that built inside of me burns a little lower. He didn’t react or argue, but listened to my rant. That’s more than what most would do.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t know what it’s like to be a woman, especially one that is the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the city, but I’ll try. For you, I’ll try.”
What the fuck?
The flame burns out and I get up from the chair. This got way too serious, too fast. I didn’t sign up for this. Whatever this is.
I shove another cupcake in my mouth and close my eyes. I need a minute to collect my thoughts. All the adrenaline that was crashing around in my body is finally draining and I feel shaky and tired.
“Why don’t we go watch TV? You look like you’re going to crash.”
I peer at him through one eye and swallow down my chunk of cupcake. “Fine, but we’re taking the cupcakes. And don’t you tell anyone that I ate on the couch. I don’t need my mother finding out.”
“This is your house.”
I grab my glass from the counter and walk into the living room. “Doesn’t matter, she’ll say it’s bad manners and then I’ll have to listen to her lecture about vermin and bugs. She’s a stickler for cleanliness.”
“What was it like growing up around all of this?”
I place my glass on the coffee table and tuck my legs underneath me before replying. “It was rough at times. We moved a lot when I was small. I think it was because my father had too many enemies rising in the ranks. We lived in Italy for two years right after Frankie was born. He didn’t even know English until after we came back.”
“Did you ever get into danger like tonight?” His brow furrows and he sits with his legs spread out, leaning back, watching my every move. I struggle with my sweater and cross it in front of my chest.
“Yes. Once. It was before the boys were born. They came into the house and shot Daddy in the leg before he killed the guy. Momma hid with me in the closet until it was over. Scariest thing that ever happened to me.”
I blow out a breath and try not to bring the memories back to the surface. It was the day I realized my father was a criminal. Normal fathers didn’t have people shooting at them. Normal families didn’t move around so much.
“Wow. I didn’t know.”
