Page 28 of Prideful Union
“Right. I’ve decided I don’t need one.”
Sighing, I look back at her. She’s so pretty in the morning light. Fuck. I need to focus. Lucia needs to learn some goddamn manners. “Well, you’re going to get one. Starting now.”
“Staring how?”
“By not eating any more of this delicious breakfast.”
She scoffs. “You’re delusional.” She makes a show of taking a large bite of the Eggs Benedict on her plate. “You’re not going to starve me.”
“Not starve. No. I want you alive. I want you to stay in shape. But you need to learn there are consequences for your actions. So, no more delicious food.” There’s a tiny bell by my elbow, and I ring it, calling my chef into the room.
Lucia’s jaw drops. “You have a bell to summon your staff?”
The chef—Anton Allard, who hails from France—approaches the table. “Yes, Mr. Ricci?”
“Take away Lucia’s food and bring in the gruel I asked you to make.”
“Yes, sir.” Anton quickly leaves the room.
Lucia stares at me in shock. “Gruel?”
Anton comes back with a bowl full of gruel. Lucia shoves a bite of the eggs into her mouth before Anton takes her plate away and sets down the bowl of gruel.
“You can’t be serious.” She picks up the spoon, scoops up some gruel, and lets it fall back into the bowl. It lands with asplat. “This is disgusting.”
“It’s healthy, though. Full of good protein. That’s all you’ll be eating until you learn to control your manners.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then get used to gruel.”
She takes a small bite and promptly spits it back out. “I can’t eat this.” She shoves the bowl away. “You’re seriously going to starve me? You’re an abusive ass, Santino.”
“No. I’m a stern man, one who knows what he likes and what he doesn’t. And what I don’t like is my wife backtalking. We’re going to make this marriage work, Lucia, but only if you fall in line.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And you’re annoying.”
She huffs. “So, then, why marry me if you hate me so much?”
“As I said before, you’re good for power. Having a strong ally like your brother in New York is best for me. I never agreed to marry you because I like you. In fact, it’s the opposite. You drive me crazy, Lucia.”
“Crazy in a good way?”
I level a look at her. “I think you know it’s crazy in a bad way.”
“Good. Because you already hate me, things can’t get much worse. Especially if I do this.”
“Do what?”
She scoops some gruel onto her spoon and flings it at me. It lands on the table, not even close to hitting me. She frowns. “That was anti-climactic.”
I sigh and stand up. “Continue being immature. You won’t win this battle, Lucia.”
“Why does it even have to be a battle?”
Her words make me stop. “Because you’ve insisted with your horrid attitude.”
