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“Why don’t I know?” Ethan questioned and didn’t look at me, focusing only on Donatella.
“If you want a straight answer Donny, you should go to the source.”
“Donny?” She whipped her head back to me so quickly, I’m sure she’d hurt herself. “My name is Donatella, and why would
I trust a word that comes out of your ugly mouth?”
I laughed. “Ugly? I’ve had numerous women use a plethora of adjectives to describe my mouth, however, ugly was never one of them.”
“Why don’t you find those ‘numerous’ women and leave us the fuck alone?” she snapped.
“I was leaving you alone when you threatened me with silverware. So, once again, you’re annoyed because of your own actions.”
“You little piece of shit—”
“Are you still bitter because I called you an idiot for wanting to usurp your brother?” I said loudly and happily. “Resorting to name-calling is a bit petty, don’t you think?”
She gripped her fork so tight I was sure it would bend.
“Shut. Your. Mouth.” She hissed through her teeth.
“Or you’ll what—”
Before I could finish speaking she brought the fork down hard right beside my arm; I could even feel the silver graze my skin. “Or I won’t miss next time.”
She trembled, breathing through her nose like a bull ready to run me down. Reaching over her hand, I freed my sweater from her wrath. “Why is the truth so hard for you to hear—”
“Why do you keep speaking to me as if I know you?!” she snapped at me. “You make it seem as if we’re close but we aren’t! I’m sure I’ve never been so fucking annoyed to meet anyone as I have today. So I doubt we’ve met before!”
“Let me understand, you believe the manner in which I’m speaking to you now is the way people who are close speak with one another?” I asked, genuinely surprised by that. “The more we speak, the more I wonder about your mental stability.”
Once again, she lifted her fork, but before she could stab me, I grabbed the knife, blocking it, the silver clashing with each other.
“That’s the third time you’ve insulted me today—”
“It’s a shame you can’t read my mind.” I winked at her, still having to put force behind the knife to keep her at bay. “You’d know how badly I’d prefer not to have a raging homicidal madwoman screaming in my ear, but an agreement is an agreement.”
Her eyes were like liquid green fire. The more I stared, the hotter I felt; it was like looking down a volcano.
“What agreement?” Ethan asked and for a brief I’d forgotten he, along with the rest of the family, was still here.
Defuse her, I remembered. I’d hope to not have to go this far, to start with this lie, but it seemed none of them were going to give me the space I needed. Very well then.
“The verbal one your parents made with mine before they all died,” I lied. It wasn’t a total lie but it was close enough. At the mention of her parents, she seemed to snap out of her rage, pulling back slowly as her brother pushed forward with his questions.
“And that is?”
Looking directly at her, I said one word, “Marriage.”
Wyatt choked on the bread he was eating, coughing so hard his face turned red. The butler came forward with water, but Wyatt merely turned to me. “Marriage? What marriage?”
“My marriage to your temperamental, impulsive, screaming banshee of a sister, Donatella Aviela Callahan.”
Her face was void of any emotion, even anger. She just shook her head. “You’re lying.”
“If I was, why would your grandmother push herself to call and make sure I was not only welcomed, but also in the room right next to you?”
She got up, her fist balled at her sides. “Who are you to marry me?”
