Page 3 of Prideful Union
“Franco is our uncle.”
“I know, but he was like a dad to us. You can’t deny that.”
“I’m not.” I stand up next. “But he’s not our dad.” I join Mom at the sink and help her clean the plates.
I watch my mom out of the corner of my eye as she frantically cleans dishes. What Luca said really upset her. But it’s all just rumors. Ludicrous.
Something nags at the back of my mind, though, as I watch my mom. She’s hiding something, but why?
“Be ready for tonight,” she says. “I’ve laid out your dress.”
And just like that, my thoughts return to myself. I’m going to meet the man of my dreams tonight.
I can just feel it.
Mom has decidedto host the party in our home. It’s a graceful, elegant occasion. All my siblings have arrived, as well as some other guests. Antonio’s men. Friends of my mom.
But no Santino.
“How are you feeling?” Emilia asks, a glass of champagne in her hand. She looks stunning in a blue dress, her blonde hair swept into an updo. I know my oldest sister the least because she was already married by the time I was born. Despite that, she’s also shown up for me the most. All my other siblings have said she was like a second mom to them, so it’s not surprising.
“Waiting for my potential husband to arrive.”
“So, you’re excited, then? To be married?”
“I am. I really am.”
Emilia shakes her head, a smile on her lips. “Then you’d be the first. Pretty much all of us objected to our marriages. Well, maybe except Antonio. I think he took one look at Nina and fell in love.” She nods at them across the room. Antonio with his dark blond hair and broad shoulders and Nina with her light blonde hair, looking like a gentle ice princess. Now, that’s a power couple. I’m going to have that.
“You objected to marrying Marco?”
Emilia shrugs. “Sort of. I knew my duty, but he didn’t make it easy on me. I was prepared to be married, but I wasn’t exactly happy about it.”
I look over at Marco. He’s talking with some men, standing taller than all of them. He’d be perfect in the looks department if it weren’t for the scar running across his face. Somehow, it makes him more handsome; though in a bad boy sort of way. But Marco isn’t a bad boy. He’s one of the nicest men I’ve ever met. A little gruff and rough around the edges but sweet.
I don’t want a husband who’s rough around the edges. I want a man who’s perfect in looks and temperament, and I’m going to have that.
“What are we talking about over here?” Gemma asks, sidling up to me. She also looks stunning in a black gown, but her blonde hair is down, making her look younger than she is. More like a woman in her twenties than her thirties.
“Lucia is waiting for Santino to arrive,” Emilia explains.
“Ah.” She takes a drink of her champagne. “Where is the lucky man?”
“Late,” I mutter. “But no worries. It’s fashionable to arrive late to a party.”
Gemma looks at the clock on the wall. “Yeah, but an hour late? Not a good look. Mom won’t be happy.”
“Not a good look?” Emilia says, chuckling. “Viktor kidnapped you. Now, that wasn’t a good look.”
Gemma shrugs. “It all worked out in the end, didn’t it?” She nudges me. “Want to go dance?”
“Yes, please.” I set my drink down (the one drink my mom has allowed because I’m still only eighteen) and join Gemma in the middle of the room, where a makeshift dance floor has been set up.
As we shimmy and strike weird poses, I catch Luca out of the corner of my eye. He’s also drinking champagne but judging by how he’s already stumbling, it has to be his third or fourth glass.
I ignore my brother. Tonight is not about him. It’s about me.
I’m wearing a deep green dress I just know makes my dark hair pop and shows off my curves. I’m proud of my booty. All those glute workouts have paid off.
