Hearing Addy whine as she sat back in her chair with her hands over her eyes, I almost smiled, but my eyes were stuck on her dad, who was now glaring at his mom.
“Are you saying I don’t have the balls to stab him with this blade?”
Sighing, Mrs. V put down her knife and fork and gave him her attention. “Caro, when you were small like a mouse, you cried with fighting, and your brothers use hands to strike.” Lorenzo’s eyes widened, and his jaw tensed as he scowled at her. Unfazed by it, she continued, “You are more precious leaf than cactus sharp.”
By this stage, I was totally lost, but if I was right, she was saying he’d hid and cried whenever there was a fight between his brothers.
“You’re lying. Sure as I’m sitting here, every word coming out of your mouth is a lie,” Lorenzo bit out.
Patting his hand, Mrs. V nodded. “Of course it is, Lorenzo.”
“Ma,” he clipped, leaning forward, and I saw where Addy got some of her responses from. “I was in the middle of every fight. I sure as shit didn’t sit crying in the corner.”
“You want we should call your brothers?”
Throwing a hand out, he yelled, “Yeah, I want we should call my brothers. Get ‘em on the line.”
Trying to change the subject, I turned back to Putri, who looked completely unaffected by all of it still.
“So, how did you two end up getting married?” It was an innocent question, one I’d heard people ask my parents and grandparents numerous times.
Unfortunately, as with everything to do with Addy’s dad, it bit me in the ass immediately.
“Eh, I wanted to make his brother jealous, but it went too far, and I was stuck with him.” Moving her eyes to look at me, she sighed, “What can you do once the certificate’s signed?”
“Woman,” Lorenzo clipped, looking like the vein on the side of his head was going to explode. “Which brother?”
I’d already started sinking down in my chair, but her answer almost had me rolling under the table for cover.
“Any of them.”
“Oh boy,” Addy muttered under her breath, and I’m pretty sure the string of words coming out of Mrs. V in rapid Italian was either her version of the same, or they were a warning to run.
When she’d invited me down for dinner, I’d pictured either the two of us or Mrs. V joining us. Then, when her parents turned up, I’d figured it’d be the best way to resolve the outstanding issues with her dad.
And I’d tried—oh, lord, had I tried.
At no point did I think I’d spend an hour listening to him rant at his brothers about his wife, then make them confirm one by one that he was a hardass with a fist of steel. Not hearing the conviction he wanted in their voices, an argument ensued, and I got to witness three Italian men yelling and threatening to kick each other's asses over FaceTime.
After a while, Putri decided they needed brotherly bonding time, so I jumped up to clear the table, reaching carefully around a snoring Mrs. V.
The woman was a con. Winding her granddaughter up with her fake lack of English aside, she’d portrayed herself to us as an old woman looking for peace, who had an adorable family of next-generation Italians, and who just wanted to paint her quirky art. That’s how Remy had described her to me before I’d even met her, so that’s all I saw when we’d met to discuss the property.
Shit, I’d even knocked fifteen thousand off the price because I didn’t want her to struggle financially when she’d bitten her lip after I’d told her the price. Come to think of it, Mrs. V had to have already known how much it was. The agent would have told her, the listing online sure as hell told her, and the property details she’d carried around in her hand had it printed on them.
I’d been had!
Taking the stack of dishes I’d picked up back to the kitchen, I looked at the time on the clock and decided I’d give it twenty minutes until I went back out there. Well, unless I heard Addy’s dad flip the table, then I’d be obligated to go out and help them put it back on its feet.
“Still here?” Putri asked behind me. “I would have run for the hills by now.”
“I can’t run for the hills. There aren’t any around, and I can see my home from here. He’d find me even if I tried.”
Patting me on the shoulder, she helped me stack the dishwasher, obviously looking to pass some time herself before she went back out. “Dads are always protective of their daughters. No man will ever be good enough.”
“Especially when they almost hit them with their truck.”
She chuckled. “There’s that, too. At least you’re not dating Adia. I have a feeling the man who ends up with her will go through a world of hell.”