Chapter 9 #2
“It’s not the money that concerns me,” he says tightly. “You no longer hold a licence, and you definitely shouldn’t be driving while you’re high. You could’ve hurt someone … or yourself. It’s reckless and stupid. When are you going to grow the fuck up and get your shit together?”
She lifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug, like she couldn’t care less. “You only live once.”
He inhales a sharp breath, filling his lungs, before calmly saying, “Have you given any more thought to rehab? That place I told you about is one of the best.”
“Not this shit again,” she snaps. “People drive around under the influence all the time. It’s no big deal. If I hadn’t gotten pulled over by the pigs, nobody would’ve been any the wiser.”
“You might have zero regard for your own safety, but what about everyone else on the road?”
“Don’t you dare go all high and mighty on me. You’re a career criminal.” He tilts his head back and groans, but doesn’t dispute her claim. “Those pezzi di merda (Pieces of shit) that you call your friends are the ones responsible for my brother’s death. Does that not mean anything to you?”
“They’re my Famiglia, not my friends, and Uncle Frank knew exactly what the consequences were when he joined the mob.”
“Your family?” she screams. “You ungrateful cunt.”
I sit here dumbfounded when she reaches over and smacks him in the side of the face. It’s so hard, the sharp crack of her slap slices through the air, unnaturally loud in the tight confines of the car, and I instantly see red.
Poor Romeo doesn’t even flinch, which tells me this isn’t the first time. Nobody in this world is flawless, including me, but this woman is beyond nasty. It’s like there’s poison running through her veins, seeping out with every word, every look, and every cruel touch.
White light flashes violently behind my eyes, obscuring my vision for a split second. My hands tremble beneath my legs as my pulse roars in my ears, drowning out everything else.
That darkness I’ve carried for most of my life—the one I once directed solely at my father—surges to the surface. All those old daydreams I used to conjure up, specifically centred around his demise, come rushing back with a vengeance.
“I am your family!” she spits. “I’m the one who gave you life. Is this the thanks I get for everything I went through to bring you into this world?”
“I never asked to be born,” he replies, quiet and terrifyingly steady, with a calm that doesn’t fit the moment, which somehow makes it all the more unsettling.
I feel like I’m seeing the man he was back in Italy. The unshakable underboss. Controlled and unreadable. The one who took out Elio without a second thought.
The fury on his mother’s face is palpable as she stares at him, unblinking. When she raises her hand to strike again, I can’t help but react.
The moment she swings, my hand shoots out from where I sit, catching her wrist midair.
“What the fuck,” she screeches, twisting towards me like she’s about to lunge, but the darkness still obscures me. Her arm thrashes in my grip, wild and unhinged, so I lock my fingers tighter around her skinny wrist.
“Who the hell is that?” she snaps, her bloodshot eyes darting to Romeo.
“Your worst fucking nightmare if you lay one more finger on him,” I spit, my voice shaking with an undercurrent of barely contained rage.
From a distance, the toll of this woman’s addiction was easy to miss, but up close, every hard line on her face and the hollowness in her eyes tell a different story. It’s clear she’d once been beautiful, but it has been dulled by years of bad decisions.
“You brought one of your whores with you?” she snarls. “How dare you. I’m not a fucking freak show. Do you think I want my private life broadcast—”
She’s cut off as those words spark an instant reaction from her son.
“She’s not a fucking whore,” Romeo roars, banging his hand down on the steering wheel. “Don’t you dare call her that again. Got it? I won’t stand for you disrespecting her. Not now … not ever.”
The ferocity in his voice makes me recoil because he sat there and took it all while his mother attacked him, but the moment she turned on me, he didn’t hesitate to step in and defend me.
“Is she your girlfriend?”
I see the subtle flicker of realisation in her eyes when his jaw ticks instead of answering.
“Holy shit, she is,” she says, reaching up to turn on the overhead lights, but Romeo grasps her wrist to stop her before she can.
“Don’t touch that.”
“I want to see her,” she snaps.
“Who she is to me, and what she looks like, is none of your fucking business, so just leave it.”
“Why are you being so secretive?” she accuses, narrowing her eyes that are the same silvery colour as her son’s.
“Oh, please. You haven’t given a fuck about me for my entire life, so don’t start now.”
Her attention moves back to me, but I’m still obscured by the dark. “Who are you?” she asks.
“Like your son said, none of your fucking business.”
Romeo snickers a short, bitter laugh under his breath.
“You’re a mouthy bitch,” she hisses.
“And you’re a waste of air, by the sounds of it,” I deadpan.
Her face twitches in anger. “You don’t know me,” she utters as her voice drops into something lower, meaner. “You have no idea what I’ve lived through.”
“I don’t, but I also don’t care,” I shoot back. “Whatever pity card you’re reaching for, it’s expired. I saw your true colours the moment you thought I wasn’t watching, so spare me the sob story, I’m not interested.”
She starts to lean forward like she’s going to lunge again, but Romeo puts a hand between us without even looking.
“Sit. Back,” he growls in that cold and final voice.
For a second, she obeys before releasing her venom. “Look at you,” she sneers, trying to recover her pride. “Acting like you’re some big man now. Is that what she makes you feel like? Powerful? In control?”
“I’m not that little boy you used to be able to push around. You can’t control me anymore, so unless you want me to pull over and make you walk the rest of the way home, I’d shut the fuck up if I were you.”
She drops back into the seat, arms crossed tightly over her chest in a huff and mutters, “Good luck with that one, you’re going to need it.”
I have no idea if she’s throwing shade on me or Romeo, but either way, I don’t care. This woman’s opinion holds no weight for me.
I settle back into my seat as the car falls silent. My head is still spinning when Romeo’s mother says, “I need to go and collect the car.”
“Like hell.”
“You either take me there, or I’ll make my own way.”
“The car is gone. I’ve already organised a tow.”
“You towed it where?”
“Never you mind.”
“It’s my fucking car,” she screams.
“Technically, it’s mine.”
“But you brought it for me.”
“When you start paying for the registration and insurance, then I’ll sign it over to you.”
“I’m on a disability pension, I can’t afford that, you arsehole. Why are you treating me like this?”
“You are far from hard done by. I fund your entire life.”
“You never give me money,” she counters.
“Because I know what you’d do with it if I did. I did, however, buy you a car. I cover the cost of your fuel and all associated expenses. I pay for all of your bills, and food, as well as letting you live in one of my homes rent-free … with that useless cocksucker—”
“His name is Devon.”
Romeo clears his throat, not acknowledging that fact. “When you get your licence back, you can have the car; until then, it’s staying with me.”
“Fuck you,” she seethes.
“Right back at you, Mum.”
The music thumps loudly in my earbuds as I step onto the chair, stretch onto my toes, and reach for the handle on the top cupboard.
I start unloading the contents one by one, lowering them carefully onto the countertop below, when two hands suddenly clamp around my hips and lift me off the chair without warning.
A startled squeak escapes me as my feet hit the floor, and before I can react, I’m spun around to face whoever’s behind me.
I tilt my head back, eyes narrowing at Romeo.
His mouth is moving fast, his expression sharp, but I can’t hear a word over Sabrina Carpenter belting “Please, please, please” into my ears.
If I had to guess, though, it definitely looked something like, “What the fuck …?”
I pull one of the buds from my ear, scrunching my face. “What?”
“I asked you what the fuck are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” I deadpan, motioning to the counters now cluttered with cups, dishes, and bowls.
“You could’ve fallen off that chair and hurt yourself,” he growls. “If you needed something from up there, you should’ve asked me.”
I rear back a little, caught off guard. He’s been acting weird all day. Overprotective and … nice, like he suddenly cares.
Neither of us said a word after we dropped his mother off last night. When we got back here, I tried to speak to him, but he just held up a hand, mumbled, “Don’t,” before storming down the hallway and slamming his bedroom door behind him.
At first, I assumed he was mad about the argument I had with his mum, but this morning, when we were eating breakfast, he kept looking at me strangely and smiling a lot.
I’d take one of his smiles over a glower any day, but it was unsettling and a total shift from the way he’s been acting around me lately.
“I’m rearranging the cupboards,” I say, voice flat. “I’ve already done my bedroom. I was going to do yours, but …”
“Stay out of my room, Lucia.”
“I know, I know,” I say, gazing down at my feet. I’m banished from his stupid room. “Hence why I’m doing the kitchen,” I mumble.
His forefinger and thumb reach out to grasp my chin, dragging my face back to his. I see his expression has now softened as he gazes down at me, and again, something about his demeanour feels off.
Don’t get me wrong, I like it when he’s nice to me, but I don’t understand this sudden shift.
“What’s with the cleaning bug?” he asks as his thumb skims lightly over my skin.