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She turned to me slowly, as if she’d noticed me for the first time, and sniffed. “Oh my God, I thought she was Romanian. You mean she isn’t?” Her eyes took me in with haughty perusal from head to toe. “How can that be?” she asked with a touch of disgust.
My gut churned, the fruity sweetness of the wine turning sour in my mouth.
“You’ve guessed it. She’s not Romanian,” he drawled, his lids dropping to half-mast as his eyes raked over me. His hot gaze turned the burning heat inside me to a smolder. Clearly, not being Romanian meant nothing to him. His hand found mine on the table and squeezed it. Ioana’s eyes narrowed on our hands, the corners of her scarlet-colored lips turning downward in a deep frown.
“That’s no good, Nicu. A prince like you should be with a Romanian girl. A good girl like my sister.”
My jaw dropped open. The gall of this woman.
“Or a not-so-good girl like me,” she added in a seductive voice. She slid a fingertip down Nicu’s arm. “I’ll divorce my husband if need be. Anything to save you from this.”
Ewww.No subtlety in this woman.
I tugged my hand away, but Nicu’s grip tightened.
“Says who?” Nicu asked in a deceptively quiet tone, although there was no missing the muscle flexing in his jaw.
Her own popped open, and she put her hand to her chest in feigned surprise. “Why, your mama, your bunica, and most importantly, your ?ef.”
She was a heavy hitter, this one; I’d give her that.
His eyes slid over to Ioana and held her gaze long enough that she shifted in discomfort before breaking their stare. “Who are you to tell me what my family expects of me? We may have fucked, but that gives you no authority over me. I’m a Lupu.”
“You are,” she hissed. “Not only a Lupu, but one known to follow the rules. I may not be a Lupu, but I’m ma—” Her eyes darted to me as she stopped herself from saying the word mafie aloud and finished with, “I’m Romanian, and as such, I’m looking out for you.” She flung a hand in my direction and hissed, “You, of all people, to come around, flaunting this trash in our faces. You should know better.”
Nicu released my hand and stood up, his chair screeching behind him. In a tone I’d never heard him use before, he said, “What did you say?”
She lifted her chin and said, “What?”
“Repeat it. Repeat what you said to me,” he ordered in a deadly tone.
The café was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Suddenly, the other girl was at her sister’s side, jerking her elbow to drag her away, but Ioana wasn’t having it. In a way, I admired her. I might not like her, but she was ready to die on her cross, and for that, I had to give her credit.
“Please, Nicu, she doesn’t mean what she says. You know her,” the other girl pleaded. “She’s bitter about her marriage.”
Ioana yanked her elbow out of her sister’s grip and sneered, “I did mean it. I meant every word of it. You’re a Lupu, and you’re the only one left unmarried. You owe it to your family to marry one of us. You shouldn’t be with a whore like her.”
“Oh, so I should be with a whore like you,” he snapped.
I inhaled sharply, but no one noticed. This was a showdown between two factions of their society. Just as I had suspected, Nicu wasn’t serious when he suggested he wanted to keep me. As much as I had an issue with him being a bad guy, his world had an issue with me. This was proof of it.
“Don’t you dare tell me who I owe what to,” Nicu went on. “I know my duty. I do my duty every fucking day of my life, taking care to protect your life.” He pointed at someone at another table. “Yours.” He pointed again. “And yours, and yours. I’ve dedicated my fucking life to all of you. To my family. To this clan. I’m a fucking man, not a lapdog, and I will decide.” He smacked his palm to his chest. “Me. No one else but me.”
Ioana threw her hands up. Her sister, frantic now, began speaking in rapid-fire Romanian. Chastising her. Begging her. Ioana wasn’t having any of it. I felt bad for the younger girl, since she was distraught over her sister confronting Nicu. It hinted at the level of power Nicu wielded and how fearless Ioana was to challenge him.
Shaking off the younger woman, she stood tall and spat out, “Yes, you do a lot, but why should we women be the only ones who are forced into marriage whether we love the man or not? Whether the man is good or not? No!” She stamped her foot and shook a clenched fist at Nicu. “If you can be with this slut, then we can do whatever we want. And if that’s the case, then I’ll be the first to divorce my husband. If the rules go to hell, where will we be then, huh?”
Holy shit, what was going on here? There was more to this story for Ioana than Nicu violating the rules. This was personal. I stared up at the stark agony in her eyes. Very personal. It was about her husband, and she’d obviously been forced to marry him.
“Enough,” bellowed Nicu.
Stepping to her, he pressed his chest to hers. Fury encompassed his face. Even I had sat back in my seat, and I wasn’t afraid of Nicu.
“Was I unclear as to who she is to me? To the Lupu clan? Because she is floors above you, Ioana, and you better damn well get on your knees in front of her and beg forgiveness.”
Taking a step back, Ioana gasped.
