Page 6 of Prideful Union
“I just say what’s on my mind. Take it or leave it.”
“There’s also a thing called being polite. And you, sir, have none of it.” I think that’s one of my best comebacks ever.
Santino chuckles. The sound is grating and condescending. “I don’t concern myself with being polite. Being polite hasn’t gotten me to where I am in life. Being ruthless has. Being confident has. Being myself. And I’ll never apologize for being myself.”
That’s hard to argue but argue I shall. “Well, I’ll never apologize for being myself either. And I demand you apologize to me for the rude things you said.”
“And what did I say?” He crosses his arms, looking me down his upturned nose.
“You said I was desperate. I am not. You also said I’m not pretty, which is a blatant lie. Anyone in this room will say I am pretty. Watch.” I clear my throat and turn to the room, raising my voice. “Can I get everyone’s attention please?”
No one even looks. There all too busy talking with each other.
I can feel Santino watching me with amusement, and it makes me blush. “Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” I ask, speaking louder.
A few people—mostly my sisters—turn to look at me.
“Look at me!” I scream.
That makes everyone turn in my direction. Even the music stops. The only sound is Santino’s condescending laugh.
I run a hand down my dress. “Now that I have everyone’s attention, I’d like to pose a question to the group. And anyone is free to answer.” I pause for dramatic effect. “Am I pretty?”
No one answers.
Emilia and Gemma exchange an awkward look. Mom gasps, covering her mouth with her hands. Antonio looks annoyed. Mia just looks amused—probably payback from all the times I was mean to her when I was younger.
And everyone else looks confused.
Santino’s gaze is locked on my face, and it’s taking everything in me to stand before the crowd with my head held high. I am going to prove this man wrong. I am pretty, and he damn well better agree with it.
“Well?” I ask.
“Of course, you’re beautiful,” Emilia says.
“Thank you, Emilia, but I’d like to hear from the men in the room.”
“Yeah, you’re hot!” one of Antonio’s men calls out. Antonio shoots him a look, and the man stares down at his feet.
Feeling vindicated, I turn to Santino. “See? I am hot.”
“He didn’t say pretty,” Santino says.
I can feel my smile crack. “What is it going to take to get you to admit I’m pretty? My sisters are not prettier than me. I am just as pretty as them. So, what will take?”
“For one, your attitude. It’s appalling. I like my women with more … decorum and class.”
“I have class. All I am is class.”
Santino only looks at me.
I huff. “Why are you so rude? You’re supposed to be my prince charming.”
He raises one perfect eyebrow. Gah, I always wished I could do that. “Who said I was your prince charming?”
“We’re going to be married.”
“I never agreed to a marriage. I told your mother I was considering it, but I would have to meet you first. And so far, Lucia Moretti, I’m afraid you’re not making the best first impression.”
