Page 29 of Prideful Union
“Or maybe it’s because you refuse to realize you’re not right about everything.”
“I’m right about you, aren’t I?” I nod at the glob of gruel on the table. “Horrid attitude.”
“Where are you going?” she asks as I reach the doorframe.
“I have more meetings to attend.”
“Of course. Should have figured,” she mutters.
I should just keep on walking, but I can’t resist myself. “Should have figured what?”
“You’re all about business. Never about having fun. You’re boring, Santino.”
“If you want to have fun, go spend time with Alexandria and the rest of the women. I’m sure that’s fun for you.”
She glares. “You know it’s not.”
“I don’t understand why you have an issue with these women.”
“Why did your relationship with Alexandria end? Clearly, you had an issue with her.”
“I told you last night—it’s not important.” I nod at her bowl. “Finish your gruel. You’ll be getting hungry again.”
I’m almost out of the room when Lucia speaks again. “They called my mom a slut.”
Sighing, I turn back to her. “What?”
“Alexandria called my mom a slut, and the other women laughed. It upset me. That’s why I asked them to leave the other day and why I left the room when they refused to.”
“Why did they call your mom a slut?”
“Does it matter? You told me I was rude to them, but they were the ones who were rude to me. Maybe don’t just assume I’m in the wrong.”
“Why, Lucia?”
She shakes her head, curling her arms around herself. “Because they accused my mom of sleeping with my uncle Franco.”
I remember the rumors. I asked Giulia herself, and she denied it.
But I have to ask again. “Did she?”
“Did she what?”
“Sleep with your uncle?”
Lucia scoffs. “No, of course not. She loved my dad. I never knew him, but the way she talked about him … It was clear there was love there. Besides, she hated my uncle. She was relieved when he died. So, no, she did not sleep with my uncle. She is not a slut. And even if she did sleep with someone else, that doesn’t make her a slut.”
“Spare me your lectures. I had to ask.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to make sure you’re a real Moretti. That Riccardo Moretti is your father.”
I can see her tense. “Are you implying Franco is my father?’
“No. But if he were, that would be a problem. He may have been a Moretti, but it’s Riccardo’s line I want to be a part of. If you were really Franco’s daughter, it would cause embarrassment for me.”
“Right. Because everything is about you.”
