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Lorenzo slams a mug onto the counter and rounds on the other man. “I’m about done with you losing your temper and raising your voice to me in my house. Yeah, I cut Chiara. So what? I don’t get up your ass when you spank her. I can do what the fuck I want with our princess if she’s willing.”
And the fight starts all over again, only with Lorenzo fighting back as fiercely as Cassius this time, his expletive-ridden English competing with Cassius’ Italian.
I call out, “Stop shouting, it’s not good for the baby.”
Both of them shut up mid-sentence and turn to stare at me.
“It’s me. I’m the baby.”
The corner of Lorenzo’s mouth twitches but Cassius glowers at my attempt at humor.
“But soon there mightbea baby,” I remind them. “Are you two going to carry on like this when you’re fathers?”
They exchange glances, still furious with each other.
I turn to Cassius. “You’re frustrated and concerned, but shouting at Lorenzo isn’t helping.” I turn to Lorenzo. “You knew that locking me away was going to piss the others off. I know you love to win, but having a baby isn’t about you. It’s about all of us.”
The two men glare at each other in hostile silence while I wait. I don’t need to spell it out for them. They’re not third-graders.
“I’m sorry for shouting, Scava.”
Lorenzo rolls his eyes. “Fine. I’m sorry for locking you out.”
“Apology accepted.”
Lorenzo goes back to making coffee, and I smile at them both. Our first disagreement and we managed to resolve it without any blood being spilled. A few minutes later, the three of us are sitting at the kitchen counter with our mugs.
I take a sip of my latte and look at Cassius. “Why do you call him Scava and not Lorenzo like the rest of us?”
Lorenzo answers for him. “Because he’s a pompous, classist asshole with a stick jammed so far up his ass that he can taste wood.”
“I thought we were done fighting,” I tell him with a meaningful look.
“It’s a habit from the old days,” Cassius explains with a shrug. “I was acapo, a captain, under Francesco Fiore. Scava led a street gang. His family and mine have never been equals.”
I wince. “So when you call him Scava it’s like you’re speaking to an underling? Isn’t that inappropriate seeing as you’re friends and equals?”
Maybe this is the source of the problems between them, the perceived status differences. It seems to me that these two might not try and one-up each other so often if they spoke to each other with more respect.
I put my hand on Cassius’ arm. “Will you try calling him Lorenzo, please? For me?”
Cassius scowls deeply and says nothing.
“Vinicius isn’t from an important family, but you don’t call him Angeli,” I point out.
“Look at Scava’s ripped jeans. Look at his hair.”
With his arms and chest covered in tattoos and his messy blond locks, he doesn’t look anything like Cassius in his designer clothes with his perfectly groomed beard and hair. His manicured nails. Cassius even smells expensive, while Lorenzo smells like blood and sweat.
I love the way both of them look. I love the way both of them smell. Different, but perfect in their own way.
“I am looking, and I love the way Lorenzo looks. I love the way you look, too. I love your voice. I love the way you talk. I love you both for different reasons, but the important thing is, I love youboth. It would make me so happy to hear you call Lorenzo by his name. And Lorenzo, I would like it if you didn’t deliberately annoy Cassius.”
“But Princess, that’s half my fun.”
“I want us all to be as close as five people can be. We should respect each other and not try to compete with each other.”
Cassius glances at Lorenzo. “Do you care what I call you?”
