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I don’t even know Marialena, yet I feel the need to protect her from this woman. And I won’t allow a show of disrespect.
“Wanting to be some green, earthy-crunchy palm reader has nothing to do with insanity. And even if she was insane, that has nothing to do with you.”
“Nothing to do with me?” Her voice rises an octave, and I know what happens next. I don’t fucking care about her tantrums, though. She continues, “As if I have nothing to say for my grandchildren?”
I turn and give her an incredulous look. “Excuse me?”
“What if I don’t want a crazy woman bearing and raising my grandchildren?”
I need a full minute to compose myself this time. I breathe in deeply through my nose and exhale through my mouth and my mother takes the opportunity to spout more bullshit.
“She’s unpredictable. Does she even have any manners?”
As if she should talk about manners. “She was raised properly by Tosca Rossi. She’s been taught what’s expected of her by her large, extended family. So yes, she knows manners.” And I fully plan on teaching her the ones she hasn’t learned yet.
“Good. I’d hate for her to embarrass you in front of anyone.”
I clench my jaw.
“What do you even know about her?” she persists.
I’ve had hardly any sleep, and whatever patience I had has long since fled. I have no interest in perpetuating this conversation.
“Get her out of here,” I growl at Cristiano.“Now.”
My mother blinks in surprise. “You order my removal as if I’m some stray animal!”
I ignore her protests. “If you come to the wedding and step oneeyelashout of line, I’ll have you escorted to a private jet and taken to Italy. I won’t have you in this house anywhere near her showing disrespect. You’re not welcome here anymore. Attend the wedding, as you’re expected, then plan to leave before the sun rises.”
She opens her mouth, then clamps it shut.
Cristiano offers her his flask. “Shot of whiskey, Aunt Agnesia?”
She curls up her nose in disgust and turns to the door. Cristiano takes her by the elbow, but she slaps his hand and shoves him away. He only chuckles.
I nod to my guard by the door. “Six men on her. If she comes within ten feet of Marialena, have her forcibly removed. Any guard that loses sight of her faces prompt punishment and dismissal fromme.”
My men nod with a chorus ofyessirs.
Another knock at the door.
I’m in no mood to talk to anyone but today I don’t have that luxury. I’m starting to second-guess my choice not to take a honeymoon.
I turn to see Giuseppe, one of the younger men on my staff who’s more like our secretary than anything. His beard is still scant, his eyes still hopeful and not yet fully jaded like the rest of us. He wants to strike it rich without getting his hands dirty, but he’ll learn soon enough. He’s eager to please, quick to do my bidding, and that’s what matters right now. “Find me a place to go.”
“Go, sir?” he asks.
I finish fastening my cuff links and head to the door. “With my wife.”
“A honeymoon, sir?”
I speak through clenched teeth. Too many eyes watch us here. I need her alone, at least for a little while.
“Yes. Don’t disclose the location to anyone but me. I want someplace with a white sand beach not far from here, but far enough away that I won’t have unwelcome visitors shitting on my parade. You got me? Good food.” I’ll have it vetted. “Privacy. Maybe a boardwalk where my new wife can buy whatever she wants. Gucci or whatever the fuck.” I smirk. “Crystalsand shit.”
“On it, sir.”
The other men watch in stony silence. I cast them a quick glance. They’re all dressed impeccably, prepared to be my groomsmen. “We ready?”
