Giovanni has mastered the art of remaining calm in Californian traffic. The essence of cool, calm, and collected, he leans casually in the driver's seat, one hand on the wheel as we sit in traffic. Normally, I'd be fidgeting in my seat at the lack of movement, but right now, our destination is his mother's home, and I could do with a few more minutes to gear myself on the road.

My gaze scans over the passing license plates, but I'm barely seeing them.

"I did see Norman yesterday," I hear myself whisper to him.

He glances my way, his features masked with an impassiveness that I know is a front. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't want every night we have together to be dramatic. I wanted a night off."

"We're going to have plenty of good nights, Scar. When something important happens, you should tell me."

"I know. I'm sorry... I should have."

With a sigh, he places his other hand on the steering wheel. "So, what happened?"

"He tried to apologize again."

"Tried?"

"I didn't let him."

"You don't want to hear it?"

I chuckle. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because it won't change anything. He blackmailed you. He lied to me."

He nods, changing lanes to attempt to find a way out of this mess. His hand suddenly rests against my thigh, and I reach for it, willing to take whatever comfort he can offer me before we arrive at his mother's.

"Scarlett, he is your father. I don't want you to ignore him because he held my father's fuck up over my head. He probably was trying to protect you from me."

I look at him, shocked. "Giovanni."

He shakes his head, smartly keeping his gaze on the road. "I'm not dismissing what he did, and I'm still fucking pissed at him for keeping us apart. But he is sick. He said he doesn't have much time left, which means you don't have much time to learn about your mother. Once he's gone... he's gone."

I hear my own thick swallow, and wanting desperately to find a way off this subject, I search for a change. My eyes flicker down to the wine bottle I insisted on buying for this occasion. It cost me a small fortune, but if it makes a good impression, it will be worth it.

"Do you think the wine is enough?"

He squeezes my fingers. "The wine is plenty."

I lift his hand to my lips, pressing down on his warm skin. I catch a small smile teasing his lips.

"You have nothing to worry about."

...

His mother's home is a good deal larger than his own, a monument of wealth and prestige from the second you make it through the gates. There is a team of landscapers working on the already immaculate yard, holding colorful carnations to plant. The mid-day sun is bright, raining down on the property. It's nearly 100 degrees, unbearable to endure more than a few minutes outside.

Giovanni holds the door open for me as I climb out, grabbing the chilled wine bottle. I shake in my stilettos, patting down my white halter dress with the other hand. I was very proud of myself for picking the outfit when I left the house, but now, I'm wishing I'd just done the impossible and worn flats to meet her.

At the feel of Giovanni's hand pressed against the bare skin of my back, I relax slightly. "You look beautiful."

"Yeah?"

He leads me up the stairs. "Yes. She'll love you."

It takes maybe ten seconds for someone to answer Giovanni's knock. It's a man, clearly a butler.

"Afternoon, Mr. Martinelli."

"Afternoon." Giovanni guides me in. "Fred, this is Scarlett Bardot."

"It's a pleasure, Ms. Bardot."

"Scarlett is fine," I respond, smiling awkwardly. "It's nice to meet you."

"Giovanni, is that you?"

My head snaps up at the sound of a deep, feminine drawl, finding a woman walking into the foyer, her heels clicking loudly against the ground.

"Mom," Giovanni says warmly as she smiles wide, stopping in front of him, waiting for him to kiss her. He does, leaning in to hug her as well.

"Gio, I told Laurie to make your favorite, but they didn't have any fresh salmon at the market. I just chewed him out."

I blink, vaguely remembering Giovanni telling me that he doesn't like salmon. When his eyes flicker to my own, the thought is confirmed.

"Don't chew out Laurie. He's going to quit if you keep giving him a hard time."

"He's dealt with me for ten years now, Giovanni. I think he knows what to expect. I want things to be perfect for you. I mean, who knows the next time I'll see you, right? You never come by anymore."

Giovanni breathes in and then turns to me. "Mom, this is Scarlett."

She looks at me and smiles softly. "Yes. I'm Tammy, darling."

I begin to open my mouth to reply, but she has already turned on her heel, beckoning us further into the house. Failing to recover from the surprise of her abruptness, I shut my mouth fast, my hands tightly gripping the wine bottle.

Giovanni's eyes meet mine cautiously as we follow her inside.

"I've had to hire more housekeepers. This place just never seems to be clean. I hope you don't mind, honey."

"I don't."

"It will cost you a bit more." Cost him?

"How many did you hire?"

"Three more."

Giovanni closes his eyes, his features etched with troubled regret. "Mom, you already had two. You do not need five maids."

Five maids? I stare at her as she enters the parlor room, immediately reaching for liquor.

"Gio–"

"Pick two, the most competent ones, and fire the other three, alright?"

"Fine, Giovanni," she responds, turning to me.

"Would you like a martini, dear?"

I shake my head. It's not even three in the afternoon. "No, thank you."

She regards me closely, pursing her lips. She turns back to the tray, grabbing the martini mixer. "I'll make you one anyway."

I look at Giovanni, and he mouths, "I'm sorry," rubbing a hand over my back.

"Mom, Scarlett brought some wine."

She turns, impossibly elegant in a slimming black dress, a tight up-do to keep her black hair tamed. Giovanni clearly gets his curls from her. I hand her the bottle, and she scans the label.

"Not bad."

"It's her favorite," Giovanni grumbles to me, shaking his head. I look between them, unsure of what to do. She smiles at me, and I sense a hostility barely restrained.

"It's a kind gesture, Scarlett. Thank you."

"Of course."

She places it down on the tray and goes back to making the martinis.

"Giovanni!"

We turn enough to see Valentina sprinting through the double doors. She quite literally leaps into his arms, choking him with the strength of her embrace.

"Val," he smiles, pulling back to gesture to me, "I think you've already met–"

"Oh, Scarlett." She pulls me into a tight hug, laughing. "I'm so glad you are back together. I knew it would happen."

I smile, blushing and Giovanni's mother turns with two martini glasses in hand.

"Valentina, for heaven's sake. This is a formal dinner. Go put on something appropriate."

I observe her jeans and blouse, which seem perfectly fine to me for a small dinner at home, but her mother regards the garments with distaste. Valentina rolls her eyes at Giovanni, who takes the drink his mother is offering.

"Has she been like this all day?"

"All week," Valentina replies begrudgingly.

"What do you mean?"

I take the martini with a nod of thanks.

"I mean, you're a little on edge, Mom."

"Well, I'm meeting your girlfriend. That would make any mother anxious... Valentina, I told you to change."

"Alright, alright!"

"Valentina, will you show Scarlett the house?" I look at Giovanni, controlling my reaction. His jaw is set tight, his eyes intent on his mother. Clearly, this isn't usual behavior for her, and clearly, he's angry and about to make it known.

"Sure, come on, Scarlett."

I shuffle toward her, reluctantly taking Valentina's outstretched hand. As soon as we're out the doors, which Veronica closes halfway, I expect to leave. Instead, she holds up her hand, moving against the wall. I shake my head, looking both ways, unable to fathom getting caught eavesdropping by his mom.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I told you we were coming. I told you I wanted to introduce her to you."

"I've been nothing but cordial to her, Gio. Don't be dramatic."

"Are you misusing your meds again?"

"That's always what you think, isn't it! God, Giovanni. I am a grown woman!"

"You get like this when you stop taking them regularly."

"I don't even want to take anything. I am fine!"

"I'd be glad to figure out a way to get you off these medications, Mom. Find an alternative means of help, but you won't do them."

"Because there is nothing wrong with me!"

I hear his sigh. "I really don't want to get into this while she's here."

"You're worried I may do something again?"

"I'm always worried about that."

"Could have fooled me. You've given up on your family."

"For fucks sake, Mom–"

"I saw Tony two days ago. Your brother was beaten. He couldn't even see out of one eye!"

"I am aware."

"How?"

"My lawyer informed me."

"And you just don't care?"

"He's my brother. Of course I care. But he needs to account for his actions."

"This is her. I swear it is!"

Valentina's sweet eyes reluctantly meet my own. I quickly divert my attention to the floor, listening closely now that I've been mentioned. My stomach has turned.

"This has nothing to do with Scarlett," Giovanni growls, lowering his voice considerably.

"How can you say that? He's told me about her threats to him. He's told me that she's had it out for him from the moment you began seeing each other! She obviously is trying to get back at him for what he did to you with Lola!"

"Are you insane? Scarlett was my publicist. It was her job to handle Tony and Lola."

"No, are you insane? She's only with you for what it can do for her!"

"You don't even know her."

"Giovanni, I love you! I am your mother. And as your mother, I can see through the people you can't. She is not worth all the trouble you've been put through."

"Stop right there." My eyes close at the snap and crackle of verbal thunder in Giovanni's voice.

"You can have anyone, Giovanni. Anyone in the world. The girl is a broken degenerate. Have you actually asked her about her past? Her father is a murderer, Giovanni."

"You're embarrassing yourself."

"NO, you are embarrassing this family by even associating yourself with her!"

"One more word, and I'm gone. One more."

"Or what? You'll leave us for good? You'll–"

I can't listen to it anymore. I leave Valentina's side, heading for the staircase, climbing with a purpose. To get away from his mother's voice by any means necessary.

I open doors randomly, looking for someplace to re-gather. The fourth door is the jackpot, a bathroom. I shut myself inside and don't even think about it. I down the entire martini, standing in the middle of the tile.

I set the glass down onto the sink with a thud, bracing myself at the counter. I study my pale features, convinced I can see my own heart pounding against my chest through my skin. I rub my face roughly, blowing out a breath.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck."

Get ahold of yourself. I shake my hands, refusing to be trembling when I head back out. I refuse to let her words get to me. I refuse to let Giovanni know I heard anything she said.

I open the door just in time that Valentina is making it up the stairs. She holds up her hands in clear distress, but I shake my head, offering her a reassuring smile.

"It's fine."

"No, oh my god. I'm so sorry. I had no idea she'd say anything like that."

"It's okay, Valentina."

"No, it's not."

I shake off the discontentment, trying to conceal the fact that the things his mother said about me struck a nerve.

"I think it's better we don't tell Giovanni we heard anything," I tell her quietly. "How about you show me your room?"

I hear a door slam, and we both flinch, collectively jumping forward into action. I follow her, only relieved when we're shut inside her room. It's definitely a teenager's room.

"My mom is such a bitch sometimes."

I smirk at her. "She's just looking out for him."

"No, she's not. She's been so consumed in herself ever since my dad died. She's had to be on all these anti-depressants, and she'll cold turkey them without telling anybody, so we never know when she's about to break down."

"His death hit her hard?"

"My dad was the greatest person I've ever known, other than my brother. My dad kept us all close. The minute he was gone, we fell apart. Tony turned his back on Giovanni, and nothing has ever been the same."

"I'm sorry you have had to go through that."

"It's nothing compared to what you've gone through. I can't even complain," she responds, looking down at her hands when my head twists towards her.

"Everyone has their story. Some are happier than others." I lean down to check out a picture in a photo frame by her bedside. It's of Giovanni and her, definitely a recent picture. I'm shocked by the similarities they share.

"Giovanni will calm her down. It will be okay."

I nod. "I know. This takes time."

Am I being convincing? I don't know.

"So, you're moving here?"

I smile. "He told you?"

"Yesterday, on the phone. Mom doesn't know yet."

I nearly tell her I'm also his fiancée, but something stops me. Fear of what today will do to us, possibly. If his mother truly doesn't like me, can this last? How important is that to him?

There's a soft knock at the door. Valentina answers loudly.

"Yeah?"

Giovanni opens the door, looking dashing in one of his custom linen suits. His olive skin glows against the creamy color of the material. He finds me and exhales, flashing a reassuring smile.

"Dinner is ready. Val, she wants to see you for a bit."

Valentina nods, grabbing a pink dress on her way out. "You guys coming?"

"We'll be down in a minute."

My body is stiff in defense, refusing to bend. She makes a face and exits, shutting the door behind her.

Giovanni turns to me. "I'm sorry, my mother is a bit anxious with the medication. She's... really a nice woman on a normal day."

"We all have bad days," I reply, shrugging. I think my smile is convincing. He swallows, sticking his hands into his pockets. His large watch gleams against one of Valentina's crystal vases.

"She's been excited to meet you, so this is just unfortunate timing."

I look down, hearing his lie. "I get it."

He's fooling himself.

"Should we go down?" I ask, sick of sitting in silence. As I pass by him, he shoots out a hand, grasping my waist. I suck in a breath, holding in my anger for his sake, needing time to calm myself and knowing that I won't get that time. He presses his mouth to my cheek, and his lips linger, intent on cooling me down.

It works.

I push past him, grabbing onto the door.

...

"Dinner is served!"

As we all lower down into the handcrafted table chairs, surrounded by thousands of dollars of art, our eyes feast on the food on the table. Giovanni looks at Laurie, smiling.

"Looks delicious, Laurie."

"Thank you."

"Even though it's not salmon."

"I don't even care for salmon, Mother," Giovanni says between clenched teeth, and she makes a face of disbelief. "You want it. Why don't you just say that?"

Valentina eyes me cautiously. Laurie fades into the background.

It seems the fighting will roll into dinner. Giovanni's mother doesn't respond to his growl. Instead, she grabs onto the bottle of wine I gifted her when we arrived.

"I thought we'd try out Scarlett's wine with dinner."

"Can I have some?" Valentina asks exuberantly.

"Absolutely not," Giovanni responds at the same time his mother grants her permission.

Giovanni smiles softly. "Mom."

"Oh, let her have some. She's old enough."

"Old enough for it to be illegal."

His mother reaches out, grabbing Valentina's hand. "Sorry, honey. It seems your brother has put his foot down."

Her sarcasm rings through clear as day. She waits while Fred uncorks the wine bottle and then holds up her glass. I wonder briefly if it's good that she's drinking with anti-depressants. When Giovanni whispers to Fred, low enough for her to not hear, that she's cut off, I have my confirmation.

Even though I don't like wine, I hold out my glass, needing the liquid courage to make it through the dinner. All of a sudden, his mom releases a ghastly sound. We all find her grimacing.

"I think this has turned."

My heart sinks. Turned? With a panic expression, I watch Giovanni lift the glass to his face, inhaling before he braves a sip. After a second, he glowers her way.

"It's fine."

"No, I swear, this tastes different. Maybe it's a knock-off?"

I have to hold my tongue. I'm almost glad when Giovanni doesn't.

"Knock. It. Off."

She begins a conversation with Laurie, asking what he's included in the meal, and Giovanni leans back in his seat. I rest my hand on his thigh, gently rubbing. He responds by grabbing it, so tight my fingers stiffen. He realizes, and his grip slackens, his fingers lacing between my own.

He lifts them, pressing his mouth to the skin. I watch his eyes meet my own apologetically and offer him a small smile, wanting to calm him. "I'm sorry," he whispers, so only I hear. "I'm seconds away from taking you out of here."

"No, I want to stay. Really." She needs to warm up to me.

"What are you two whispering about over there?"

"Work," Giovanni replies immediately, exhaling. His mom, holding her heavy wine glass with both hands, directs her attention to me, and I'm livid enough to hold her gaze.

"Scarlett, you work with Norman White, right? I met him once at a party years and years ago. I think he was on his third marriage then."

I smile, chuckling. "He's always searching for the right one. Actually, I'm not working there anymore. I'm contemplating opening my own firm... here in L.A."

Giovanni smiles softly to himself, looking down.

Her brows lift. "Here?"

"Yes. Giovanni and I are moving in together, so I'm going to be living here from now on."

Giovanni glances at his mom. "Are you happy for me?"

"Y-Yes," she responds, gaping slightly, clearly enraged. "I didn't know this was that serious?"

Giovanni's eyes slant. "Actually, it's a good deal more serious than that."

I watch fear strike in her eyes. "Oh?"

"Scarlett's, miraculously, agreed to marry me."

"Marry! Oh my gosh!" Valentina gasps excitedly, slamming her hands into the table. Giovanni grins as she jumps up and rounds the table, coming up behind him. Her arms wrap around his shoulders, capturing him in a chokehold. I laugh hesitantly as she hugs me as well. "We're going to be sisters!"

Tammy stares between us, pale white. I can't tear my eyes from her.

"Giovanni, can I have a word," Tammy whispers, holding a passive expression, "in the other room?"

He doesn't move for ages, simply staring at her. He finally sets down his drink, looking at me as he rises.

"Excuse me."

I nod, letting go of his hand with reluctance. I nearly tell him to stay. They both disappear through the doors into the adjacent room.

"Has he given you a ring yet? Why aren't you wearing one?" Valentina asks me, disturbing my attempt to listen in on their argument in the next room.

"He hasn't. He proposed... spur of the moment in Italy. He gave me this." I show her my locket. She grabs it, inspecting it and reading the quote, and smiles.

"Who knew he was such a sap?"

I hum. "I like it quite a bit."

I take a sip of wine as she walks back to her seat to serve herself. She gestures for me to as well.

"You might as well... this might take a while."

"Why?"

"Because my mom still wants him to marry Lola."

I still, unsure if I heard her right. "Lola?"

She chews on a roll. "Mhm."

"She wants him to marry the woman who cheated on him with his brother?"

"They've always been close. Lola has been here recently selling this sob story that Giovanni was never around and Tony paid attention to her. She's convinced Mom that Giovanni was in the wrong."

I'm blistering with rage. I can hardly sit still.

"Don't you dare," I hear Giovanni bark, and suddenly, Tammy is in the doorway, chest heaving, face red.

"What do you want with my son?" she shouts accusingly.

Somehow, I keep my cool. "I want to marry him."

Giovanni walks by her, currently livid.

"Why?"

"Because I am in love with him." Giovanni stops behind my seat. "Because we love each other."

"You are not the right person for my son. You have destroyed this family. My son is in jail because of you!"

"Tony is in jail because of Tony." I lean forward on my elbows, sick of her accusations. "He has wronged Giovanni in many ways, but the reason I held anything over Tony's head was because it was my job to protect Giovanni's reputation, even from his own family members."

"Giovanni could have handled the missing money. It was your influence that made him begin this ridiculous trial! We could have settled this privately! If you think for ONE second I'm going to approve of this marriage, you're mistaken, little girl!" She points at Giovanni, gritting her teeth together she's so angry. "And if you came here thinking for one second that I'm giving this whore my mother's ring–"

"Mom!" Valentina shouts, eyes widening.

"Fuck this shit," Giovanni snarls, holding his hand down for me.

I'm shaking violently, holding my tongue hard enough to taste blood. I take his hand, rising onto my feet.

"Giovanni, don't go!" Valentina cries, tears welling up in her eyes.

Giovanni points to his mother with a rigid finger. "I will be here at seven A.M. on the goddamn dot, and we will go together to the doctor because you are clearly out of fucking control! And let me tell you this, you will accept Scarlett, or you lose me. There's no alternative. She will be my wife."

She cackles like an actual witch. "Oh! Look at you! You'll give up your family for that–"

I pull myself from his grasp, unable to listen to any more from her. I won't do that to myself.

"I'm ashamed of you," I hear Giovanni hiss behind me before his shoes are following me.

"Scarlett, I'm sorry!" Valentina shouts, her small voice echoing through the foyer. Fred opens the door for me, his face full of resolution.

"Thank you for coming," he murmurs as I pass. I can only offer a nod in reply, my arms circling my body in a desperate need for protection. I sprint down the steps, a fire sparking beneath my toes.

"Scarlett!" He's right behind me. My chest expands, my emotions exploding within my frail body. "Scarlett, wait."

I spin on my heels, and as he is unsuspecting of it, we crash together. And in my anger, my defiance, my mouth lands upon his with a heated passion, my arms circling his shoulders.

The initial shock wears off within seconds, and he gives in to my kiss, fisting the material of my dress so I can't move an inch. Our mouths attack one another as if we're fighting, both so enraged we cannot help it. I pull on his bottom lip, clamping down, unwilling to let go, and he moans low at the pain of it, his hands raking up my back with strong, steel fingers until they are nestled tightly in my hair.

He only removes his lips from mine enough to meet my eyes, gasping.

"I fucking love you," he groans.

To answer him, I seal the space between our lips.