Quinn
I’m just coming out of my bedroom when Mamie rushes toward me, her face flushed, and her breathing hard. "Mr. Mariano is here,” she says panting, as though she’s ran up the stairs the moment he entered the house. "He’s waiting for you in the front sitting room."
I glance down at the pale pink sundress I’m wearing. I’m barefoot, my toenails painted the same pale pink as my dress, and my hair is in loose curls, wet from the shower. I don’t have time to change. Lorenzo’s already here, and if I make him wait, Da will lose his mind.
“Thanks, Mamie, is Da with him?” I ask, hoping like hell he’s left for his meeting with Tony.
I give her a grateful smile. “Thanks, Mamie, you’re the best.”
I glance down at my clothes and grimace. I should really get changed.
“You look beautiful, dear, stunning just as you are. Mr. Mariano would be a fool if he didn’t think so.”
Tears sting my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. God, Mamie is beyond the greatest. I reach for her hand and squeeze her as I press a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you,” I whisper, my throat clogged with emotion.
She gives me a watery smile and waves me away. “You’d better get going, girlie. You don’t want to leave him waiting.”
I quickly make my way downstairs and find Lorenzo seated on the couch. The moment he sees me, he stands. "Quinn," he says, his voice velvety smooth. I watch as his gaze roams along my body.
I feel my blood heat as his gaze reaches my face. I see the interest spark in his eyes before it’s gone.
I take a deep breath and smile at him. "Lorenzo,” I reply as I close the door. "You could have called ahead."
What the hell was wrong with me? I really need to learn to think before I speak.
His lips curve at the ends. "I did,” he says dryly. “Your brother told me you were home."
It has to be Caden, damn him. I'm going to have words with him. No doubt he probably did it on purpose to stop me from overthinking it, which is aggravating, but sweet.
Lorenzo reaches into his inside jacket pocket and sets a black velvet box onto the table in front of me.
I frown, staring at it. What is it?
Lorenzo’s lips curve wider. “It’s not going to bite you, Quinn. Open it.”
I take a step toward the table, more than aware that he’s watching my every step, and I open it. My breath catches as I stare at the beautiful ring. It’s an emerald, deep green set in gold. It’s huge, but absolutely stunning.
"It's beautiful," I say, breathlessly.
“I’m glad you like it. I picked it out myself.”
I turn to face him, shocked that he didn't get someone else to purchase it, but instead chose it himself. "It really is beautiful."
"Does it fit?"
I slide the ring onto my left hand, and it fits like a glove and the gold and green stand out against my pale skin. "Yes," I say, unable to pull my gaze from it.
"Good," he says, his gaze firmly on me and I can’t help but feel a little self-conscious. I’ve never had anyone stare at me the way that Lorenzo is, and it’s quite intimidating.
The sound of someone clearing their throat has me stepping backward and looking toward the door. I’m shocked to find my da standing there watching us with a cool expression on his face.
“Lorenzo,” he says cooly. “I didn’t expect you today.”
Guess I wasn’t the only one who didn’t know that Lorenzo was coming over today, but I’m wondering who called Da away from his meeting to tell him that Lorenzo was here?
“The wedding is in less than two months, Ronan. The engagement party is this weekend. I assure you, I’m here to give Quinn her engagement ring, nothing nefarious at all.”
“While you’re here, why don’t you come into my office and we can discuss business,” Da says, giving me a pointed glare.
Ah, it’s my time to leave. I glance at Lorenzo and see that he’s watching me.
I turn back to my da and see that he too is watching me as I exit the room.
For the past week, things have been different.
My da doesn’t watch me like I’m an annoyance or someone who needs to be disciplined or reprimanded.
In fact, he’s more watchful and curious, as though he can’t quite work me out.
I shut the door behind me and move toward the kitchen. I need breakfast. Mamie caught me on the way to get some.
It seems as though today is going to go downhill and fast as I see Mam sitting at the table in the kitchen, a cup of tea in her hands as she reads the newspaper.
“You're late,” she says, not raising her head from reading the newspaper. “There’s no cooked breakfast, and the staff won’t be making anything else until lunch. You want food, make it yourself.”
I try not to laugh. I’ve been making my breakfast for years. As much as I adore Timmy, our chef, I very rarely have meals with my family and in not doing so, I tend to have a later meal than everyone else. Which means Timmy is finished and it’s up to me to cook for myself.
“That’s okay,” I reply softly. “I just wanted some toast anyway.”
She turns to me, her gaze zeroes in on the ring on my finger, and I watch as her face contorts.
"Let me see," she says, motioning me to come forward. “I’d heard that Lorenzo was here. I had no idea it was to give you a ring.” She hums. “He didn’t give Daire one, and they were engaged longer than you are.”
I ignore the jab, knowing she’s bringing Daire up to try and get under my skin. Instead, I shuffle toward her and hold out my hand for her to get a good look at my ring.
She barely glances at it before she shakes her head. "It's simple," she says, like simple’s a dirty word.
I grind my teeth. Of course, she’d find something wrong with it. "I like it."
"Of course you do." She says it in a dismissive tone. "It suits you. You’ve always been the boring one," she adds, “and this ring is simple yet boring.”
I hear a high-pitched laugh and grit my teeth again. Just what I need right now. I've not even had breakfast, hell, not even a damn cup of coffee, and now I’m going to have to listen to Daire and whatever bullshit she’s about to spew at me.
I turn to see her walking toward me, her lips pursed as she glares at my hand.
She’s not even trying to hide her disdain.
Then again, I think her trying to hide who she truly is stopped when she got knocked up, and everyone finally found out that she’s a liar.
About damn time, and yet, there’s still people, like my Da and Conn, that believe that butter wouldn’t melt when it comes to Daire.
To them, I’m still the bitch who does everything in my power to belittle and be mean to her.
I wish that were the case. Sometimes I wish I had an ounce of the bitchiness that Daire had and that I could deal with the bullshit that she and Mam spew, but I don’t. I honestly don’t think that I ever will.
"It's nice," she says snidely. "It’s very you, Quinn."
"Thank you," I say, keeping my wide smile on my face. The only way I know how to deal with them both is to keep on smiling and let them see that no matter what they say, it doesn’t affect me.
"Plain suits you," Mam says. "You've never needed to stand out. Daire was always the one who lit up a room." She says it like it's a compliment to me, like being the one who doesn't light up rooms is a quality I should be grateful for.
"Mm," I say.
Daire takes a seat beside Mam and stretches her legs out. "She blends in," she agrees. "It's a skill, really. Not everyone can just... disappear into a room and have everyone be fine with it."
I look at the ring on my finger. Gone was the happiness that I felt when Lorenzo gave it to me. Instead, I feel such dread in the pit of my stomach. Maybe they’re right? Maybe it is plain, and I’m just stupid in thinking it’s beautiful?
"You'll need to find a way to hold your own in the Mariano house," Mam says, a vicious smile on her face. "It's a different world. Cesare's wife is formidable. Those daughters have presence." She pauses as she looks me up and down. "You'll have to work at it."
"I know," I respond. Gone is the smile I had, and I’m struggling to even maintain a cool tone. I can feel the tears starting to well.
I will not cry in front of these women. I won’t ever give them that satisfaction.
"Lorenzo's used to a certain caliber of woman," Daire adds, casually. "Sabrina Laskaris has been—"
"Daire." My voice is very flat. "Don't."
She looks at me with wide eyes, full of fake surprise. "I'm just being honest."
No, what she’s doing is acting as though she’s trying to help me, but the truth is, she’s doing whatever the hell she can to tear me down.
"You're just being yourself," I say with a sigh.
“You’re just jealous,” she fires back. “Jealous that I was the one that he wanted, that I’m the one that most men want. And who could blame them? Hmm, look at you Quinn. You’re a plain Jane. You don’t know how to dress, you have no sense of style, and you’re boring as hell.”
She has no idea who I am, so how the hell does she know that I’m boring?
“I’d rather be boring than be you, Daire,” I hiss, my anger getting the best of me now.
There’s only so much that I can take from her and Mam before I lose my temper and let my mouth fly.
“You do not speak to your sister like that. Have some respect,” Mam snarls.
“You mean like she has respect for anyone but herself? I’m getting married because of her, and I’m the one who should have respect?”
“What is done is done,” Daire says, placing her hand on her stomach where the baby lies. She’s not started to show yet. “I’m giving our parents their first grandchild.”
I stare at her with a raised brow. Does she think just because she’s pregnant that it gives her carte blanche over all her wrongdoings?
“Do not upset your sister, she’s in a delicate condition,” Mam snaps at me.
I blink. Delicate? I don’t think there’s anything delicate about Daire.