19. Diciannove

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After church, the Russo's followed us to our car like lost puppies

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After church, the Russo's followed us to our car like lost puppies. I had forgotten that I would have to attend a luncheon with them. Isabella deliberately brushed past me and my mother muttered a curse as I opened the car door for her. I chuckled giving her a look of disbelief. Striding towards my car I texted Zara that I'll be a little late.

Isabella fucking tried to get in the car with me. Perhaps it was God that stopped me from running over her. As her father, came whispering something in her ear. Isabella gave him a curt nod, she swallowed thickly craning her neck up so I could see her throat working, and moved out of my way. Fucking bitch thinks if she will blink her eyes rapidly I will take her as a strong girl biting back her tears of hurt.

10 minutes later, around the same time, we all arrived at the Da Vittorio. Our ancestral hotel, and my father's pride and joy. The chefs here know how to use their knife, whether for a chicken's neck or a man's. There were rumors about them being real-life Hannibal. A shudder runs through me every time I think of eating something that does not belong to a plant or an animal.

Mom's hand was cold when It held it ushering her with me to the restaurant. It was alarmingly empty on a Sunday, the motherfucker must have reserved it. This extravagant gesture and Russo's nauseating presence is making me jittery. But I can't afford to show my nervousness here of all places, where every single employee is my father's bitch.

Papa was already seated in his chair like a fucking king. We were served the food just as we were seated. The food papa had selected for us without asking. His brow arched at me in a challenge to contend with him like a pseudo-feminist about ordering my own food. I couldn't give two fucks. Even if I get served a human to the tongue, I would have to swallow it like a whore.

"Shrimp Fra Diavolo. My favorite." Chirped Isabella kissing my father's ass, her family bobbed their head like they couldn't agree more. Father nodded approvingly. He likes the spicy sauce to the tongue burning point. But mom has become wary of too much spicy food since her tonsillectomy two months ago. It is a test. If I pass out with flying colors, he'll find another excuse to belittle and if I don't, he'll be happy, satisfied that I'm becoming more like him every day. Mom quickly held the spoon and ate washing it with a glass of water, leaving no room for me to argue with my father.

"Gian, it's time you get married. We'll announce your marriage to Isabella next Friday." Father ordered as the don to his inferior, out of no fucking where. I carefully swallowed the food that now tasted like cardboard in my mouth.

"Forgive me, Don. But I don't want to marry a woman who can recognize any man by the size of their dick. I respect our tradition, even the bloody sheets. Which will be broken after my marriage to Miss Russo here. So, I would rather enjoy my bachelorhood for now." I spoke to him in a low careful manner, like an inferior to his master. Because if I had spoken it in any other manner I would have been dead.

Don dropped this fork with a clink the sound resonated in the banquet, his nose flared with anger. Mamma's softly gasped, Mrs. Russo's face showed real terror, as she gripped her spoon tightly.

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