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I nudge Roman, but he shakes his head and sighs.
“Roman,” I hiss.
“He’s…” Roman shakes his head. “They’re kinky.”
Across the table, Gil shoots Roman a look that seems to say, see what I mean?
Sofia comes in with a trolley laden with dishes. After placing two large plates of bruschetta on the table, she walks around to the other side and takes the empty seat between Gil and Benito.
“Sofia’s your date?” Cesare asks with a cackle.
“Better than picking up any old trash from the basement,” Benito replies with a sniff.
Cesare rises out of his seat. “What did you say?”
My gaze darts to Roman, whose tight features seem to agree with Benito. I’m still trying to work out if the woman is a prisoner or a bratty submissive.
“Sit the fuck down,” Roman snarls. “Sofia is always welcome at this table.”
Cesare lowers himself onto his seat and mutters an apology to the housekeeper.
Another member of staff comes in with bottles of white wine, and we pass around plates of bruschetta and bowls of caprese salad, each taking as much as we want.
While tensions are high and nobody speaks, it really feels like I’m dining with a family. A family who may not all get along all the time, but it’s obvious that this room is full of loyalty and love.
The next course is a creamy orzo pasta served with an eggplant parmigiana that makes my mouth water. As I take a heaping serving, Annalisa’s high-pitched laugh grates on my eardrums.
“Denim at dinner?” she says with a smirk. “You could have at least dressed for the occasion.”
My stomach tightens. I’m about to defend my outfit when Roman slams his fist on the table, making everyone startle.
“Get out,” he snarls.
My gaze snaps to Roman, who didn’t say a word while his brothers insulted each other and only said half a sentence about Sofia. But now he’s outraged? This reminds me of the time he made the restaurant manager crawl.
Annalisa’s features falter. “Who, me?” She makes a nervous giggle and glances from Sofia to Cesare’s date for support. When they glare at her, she turns to meet Gil’s furious scowl. “Come on. It was only a joke. We talk like this all the time. Don’t we?”
My lip curls. “If you’re referring to the veiled insults, that’s only you.”
Roman rises off his seat. “Nobody insults my woman more than once and gets to keep their tongue. Get the fuck out of my house.” He bares his teeth. “Now.”
I glance around the table, seeing all the furious glares directed at Annalisa. Even Cesare and his date look disgusted at the jab.
This is the first time someone has recognized a barb made against me, let alone risen to my defense. Something in my chest loosens and my heart floats free. I feel vindicated for all those times people like Annalisa gaslighted me into thinking I was being oversensitive.
Maybe the Montesano family is where I really belong?
Gil nudges Annalisa, making her rise off her seat and walk to the exit on trembling limbs. Her shoulders sag and she bows her head. I wait to feel the usual guilt she elicits whenever I’ve tried to call her out, but it’s absent.
It looks like I’m finally learning that attacking me is never acceptable, even if it’s only with words. How could I not when I finally see my own self-worth? I always defended myself, but never truly followed through because I was riddled with doubt.
That part of me is dead.
As she reaches the door, she turns to Gil and asks, “Take me home?”
Gil snorts. “You insulted the boss’s woman. That’s worse than insulting the boss.”
Everyone around the table nods.
