Page 36 of My Wedding Mafia Style

“I know. That is the only reason I’m not currently yelling louder.”

Sofia sets her glass down. “Would you like to call her, dear?”

Lucy’s expression softens at once. “That’s kind of you. Probably not yet. She’ll ask questions, and I currently have only partial answers.’”

My grandmother’s voice is softer now but no less precise.

“In this room, we prefer truth. Even strange truth.” Her eyes shift briefly to me. “Especially strange truth. It often tells us more than polished lies.”

I feel that glance like the tip of a knife. Lucy does too, though perhaps not for the same reason. Her fingers curl lightly in her lap. I want to cover her hand again. I do not, because I am beginning to understand that every time Itouch her, I tell my family more than I intend. Then again, perhaps I have already told them everything.

Nonna leans back. “So. Tell me the truth.”

The salon quiets.

Lucy swallows. “About which part?”

“The part where you and my grandson pretend this evening makes sense.”

Bianca freezes. Isabella’s eyes widen. Adriana goes very still. My mother looks down at her glass, though I know she is listening to every word.

I sit forward. “Nonna.”

She lifts one hand without looking at me. “I asked Lucia.”

Lucy’s breath catches beside me. I do not like this. I like even less that my grandmother is right to ask.

Lucy looks at me, and I see the question in her eyes. It’s not exactly fear or panic, but a definite request for something I do not yet know how to give.

Permission? Protection? Truth? Perhaps all three.

I lower my voice. “You do not have to answer.”

Nonna’s gaze remains on Lucy.

The engines hum beneath us. Water slides along the hull. Somewhere on the lower deck, glass clinks softly, as if the yacht itself is trying to seem busy while my grandmother takes us apart.

Lucy looks back at Nonna.

“This started fake,” she says.

The words land quietly. My sisters stop breathing.

My father’s expression shifts, but he does not interrupt. My mother’s hand tightens around her glass. Adriana looks at me. Bianca looks between us. Isabella’s mouth opens, and Adriana grips her arm without glancing away.

Nonna only waits.

Chapter 11

Luca

Lucy continues, her voice steady though her cheeks have gone pink. “I saw my ex at the wedding with someone else. I panicked, which is not the same as a plan, but it has many of the same moving parts if you don’t look too closely. Luca was sitting there looking … debonair, expensive and available.”

My mouth twitches despite the moment.

“Available?” I ask.

“You were sitting down.”