Page 5 of Tell Me Lies
Without warning, she started repeatedly smacking Marco under the duvet while a string of Italian curses rang from her lips. Flailing wildly in the tangled fabric, Marco ended up falling off the bed.
When he popped his head over the mattress’s edge, Vittoria gasped in horror. “Marco?” She whirled around to face me. “Marcois the man you’ve been seeing?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
After quickly making the sign of the cross, she murmured, “Dios mio.”
Although it was the worst possible time to do it, Marco gave her his signature smirk. “Aunt Vittoria, how nice to see you.”
Her expression turned lethal. “You wipe that fucking smirk off your face right now, young man! Do you have a death wish?”
“Not exactly.”
“If you’re fucking the boss’s daughter, you sure as hell do.”
When I started to open my mouth to protest, she jabbed a finger at me. “Don’t you dare say a word right now. Get in the bathroom and get ready as fast as you can.”
She then turned her wrath on Marco. “And you get dressed and get the hell out of here.”
Even though we were both adults, Marco and I obediently said, “Yes, ma’am.”
Before I could escape to the bathroom, Marco balled the comforter in front of his crotch and came over to me. “See you later,mi bellissima angela.”
After Marco kissed me on the lips, Vittoria smacked the back of his head. “That’s enough of that, lover boy.”
Vittoria then grabbed my hand and dragged me into the bathroom. I threw one fleeting look back at Marco, and he waved. Once I was jerked into the bathroom, Vittoria slammed the door.
After shoving the toothpaste and toothbrush at me, she grabbed the hairbrush and started taming my bed hair. After one harsh pull of my hair, I winced.
Ignoring my pain, Vittoria demanded, “How could you be so foolish to sleep with a man under your father’s roof?”
“I’m sorry,” I genuinely replied.
“And withmynephew! Do you know what could happen to him and to me if the two of you were discovered?”
I spat out the toothpaste and fought not to vomit. “Yes,” I murmured.
“Then how could you endanger us like that?”
“I’m sorry.” As a tear slid down my cheek, I said, “I love him.”
Vittoria stopped tugging the brush through my hair. “Dios mio,” she muttered again while once again making the sign of the cross, but this time while holding the hairbrush.
“And he loves me.”
Vittoria slammed her eyes shut. “Enough. I cannot talk about this anymore. The two of you are going to give me a stroke, and then I’ll never get to be a grandmother.”
Since I didn’t know what else to say, I muttered miserably, “I really am so, so sorry.”
After twisting my long, dark hair into a tasteful bun, she pursed her lips at me in the mirror. “Somehow I don’t think you are.”
When she whirled around and stomped into the bedroom, I followed her. Marco had apparently dressed in record time because the suite was empty.
Vittoria produced a demure dress from my closet. Although I hated dresses, I obediently went about pulling it over my head. As Vittoria fluffed it out, I met her gaze. “I swear on the saints I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you or Marco.”
With an exasperated sigh, Vittoria countered, “You know who you are, Drea. And you know who Marco is.”
I slanted my brows in confusion. “What does that mean?”
