Giovanni nearly knocked over the table in his haste to stand up. “Eloisa.” Dio, Dio, he didn’t need this now. Nothing good ever came of Eloisa’s confrontations, and it was clear she was determined to have it out with someone.
Eloisa held up her hand to stop him, not that it was going to do any good. He was already in position, standing between his mother and Sasha. Stefano had risen much more elegantly, but also glided between Eloisa and the women.
“I had no idea you planned to visit this morning, Eloisa,” Stefano greeted. “Come sit down.” He indicated the table. “Would you care for coffee?”
“No, I wouldn’t care for coffee. What I care for is an explanation of how my son ended up engaged to a complete bimbo.” Both hands went to her hips and she glared at Giovanni.
Stefano glanced at Francesca. One look, that was all, and she immediately caught Sasha’s hand and whispered to her, hoping to get her out of the room. They’d taken two steps when Eloisa cut them off.
“Don’t you dare leave this room. Do you think I haven’t seen all the pictures? Exposing your breasts in public? Declaring to the world that you’re engaged? You are not trapping my son into marriage.”
“That’s enough,” Giovanni snapped. He knew his face darkened with temper—he had one, and it was rising fast. “You don’t know the first thing about what you’re talking about.”
“Wait.” Sasha’s soft voice had him spinning around. She looked puzzled. “Is she accusing me? What does she mean, pictures? Exposing my breasts in public? I thought you got all those pictures. You told me you did.” She put her hands behind her, feeling for the counter.
Giovanni nearly groaned aloud. The action only served to emphasize her generous breasts, and he knew that would drive his mother into further tantrum. Sasha hadn’t denied her breasts had been exposed; in fact, from her statement, the circumstances would only sound worse to Eloisa. She would be certain Sasha had been partying.
“You little whore.” Eloisa actually curled her fingers into two tight fists and stepped toward Sasha aggressively.
Giovanni stepped with her, keeping his body between Eloisa and Sasha. “Eloisa, as usual, you have no idea what’s going on. Just stop.”
“Eloisa.” Stefano’s tone held a wealth of warning.
Giovanni knew all along Sasha wasn’t the kind of woman to hide behind her man; still, he wasn’t prepared for her to step around him to face his mother. Eloisa tore other women to shreds, especially if she thought she was protecting the family name. The minute Sasha was nearly toe to toe with Eloisa, his mother attacked.
“I know all about you and that brother of yours, kept locked up because he’s totally gone, out of his mind. If you think I want someone like you—”
“Don’t you dare talk about my brother,” Sasha hissed, her step toward Eloisa every bit as aggressive as his mother’s had been. “You don’t know the first thing about him. If you had one shred of decency, one tiny bit of patience, you’d know he was in an accident and suffered a brain injury. If you did know that, it just goes to show you don’t have one ounce of compassion in you and you aren’t worth very much. If you all will excuse me, I have to get to work. This horrible bitch has ruined my appetite.”
For once, Eloisa looked stunned. She stood there, her mouth open and her eyes wide with shock that another woman had stood up to her. Sasha went on around her and stalked toward the elevator doors. Giovanni wanted to shove his mother out a window. Instead, he followed his woman. Her shoulders were set and her head high. Color flagged her cheeks. Dio, even that made him hard—and so fucking proud he wanted to kiss her—the way she stood up to Eloisa.
“Do you deny trying to trap my son into marriage?” Eloisa demanded.
“Absolutely I deny it.” Sasha kept walking.
“If anyone is trying to trap anyone, Eloisa, I’m doing my best to make certain she marries me,” Giovanni snapped as he put his arm around Sasha.
“That was so unkind,” Francesca reprimanded, sending her mother-in-law a frown of condemnation.
“You can leave now,” Stefano said, indicating the elevator.
“Wait.” Eloisa sounded conciliatory, not commanding.
Sasha stopped and slowly turned around. Giovanni turned with her, but he dropped his arm and stepped back. She wanted to deal with his mother on her own, and she deserved to do so. As long as she was holding her own, he wasn’t about to interfere.
“I’m sorry about your brother. You’re right. I should have learned more before I came here. The investigators showed me the pictures and told me you had a brother in a hospital and I didn’t look any further.”
She glanced at Francesca. “You’d do to learn a little from this one. She stands up for herself and her family. Still, I can’t have a woman who exposes her body to the world as one of our family. Giovanni, you know the rules. Your duty is to follow them.”
“Well, fuck duty,” Giovanni snarled.
“You can get angry all you want, but I’m not having this exhibitionist in our family. It’s bad enough that your brother chose …”
Stefano let his breath out in a long, slow hiss. “Did you come here just to piss me off? Because you don’t want to do that, not now. I’m already there. State why you’re here without shrieking at everyone and hope I don’t throw you out.”
“I’m your mother whether you like it or not, Stefano, and you can show a little respect.”
Stefano’s eyebrow shot up. “The problem you’re running into, Eloisa, is that in order for me to respect you, I have to have a reason, and coming into my home, harassing my wife and screaming at Giovanni’s woman before you even know the facts is not the way to get it.”
Eloisa slapped her hand over the tabloid. “I think I know the facts, Stefano, they’re here in black and white for the world to see. Giovanni’s engagement to this woman is a complete farce.”
“What engagement?” Sasha asked. “What pictures? Show me.”
Giovanni glared at his mother as she held out the tabloid.
“Don’t try to pretend that isn’t you because it clearly is,” Eloisa snapped. “You’re on rather prominent display.” There was sarcasm in her voice.
Stefano handed his paper to Francesca, who stood with him. There was a long silence as the two women stared at the damning photographs, tension stretching out until Giovanni wanted to break it. He didn’t, he just kept his gaze fixed on Sasha’s face. No one else’s reaction mattered. No one else mattered.
“Well.” Eloisa broke the silence. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Sasha glanced up. “I don’t owe you an explanation. Not one word.” Her gaze switched to Giovanni. “I’m sorry, honey, I know this is going to be terrible for you.” Her finger moved over the lurid headline declaring playboy jet-setter Giovanni Ferraro was engaged to a party girl waitress. “You wouldn’t be in this position if you hadn’t tried to help me.” She tossed the tabloid away from her as if it were a snake. “I really do have to get to work. If you all will excuse me …”
“Baby, you know you can’t go to work. You have a very dangerous stalker after you. He put a bomb in our car last night, or don’t you remember?”
“What is going on?” Eloisa demanded. “A bomb? Dio, Giovanni, you’ve gotten yourself into more trouble than your brothers ever thought of and they were bad enough.”
Everyone ignored her.
“Someone at Aaron’s table snapped that picture,” Giovanni stated.
“A series of pictures. Of course, the article left off the part where you were attacked and your clothing ripped,” Stefano said. “I reviewed the security tapes.”
“Do you think Aaron did it? Or his friend James? Tom Mariland was there as well,” Sasha said. “Aaron sent me flowers, and James had a box of chocolates delivered. Tom came to the deli and apologized in person. But …” She trailed off, frowning.