"Why? She's bold enough to sit on your lap in front of the whole crew, but too afraid to show her shoulders?"
"Don't talk nonsense. The girl's just shy."
Gemma Castellano, emboldened by his protection, threw me a smug, provocative glance. Her fingers drifted to the hollow of her throat as if the moment had overcome her.
"Mrs. Moretti, it's the holiday! Out with the old, in with the new, no? New people replace the old ones. A woman in this life learns to understand that."
The men around the table tried to smooth it over, winking, asking me to hand Lorenzo a way down.
"Mrs. Moretti, we were just passing the night. Everyone's had a little too much off the bottle and things got out of hand. We'll take three shots as penance to make amends. Let it go for Lorenzo, eh?"
I said nothing. The music kept playing, but the laughter at the table had died.
Lorenzo remained composed, his expression carrying a tinge of reproach. "Why are you here? I told you to stay at the house and mind the baby."
His words hit me like shards of glass.
I could not believe that the man who had once planned a nursery with me, hands moving over blueprints like he was laying claim to a future, now stood beside another woman, dismissing me like a stranger off the street.
Tears fell down my cheeks, but I bit down on my trembling lips to steady my voice. "Lorenzo Moretti, you once said that those who betray their own meet a miserable end."
His face darkened. The gold signet ring on his pinky caught the low light as his hand tightened.
"Serafina, watch your words. Gemma and I are nothing serious. Besides, you've let yourself go. You've grown fat as a pig carrying that child. I've done you a favor enduring the sight of you and sharing a bed at all."
"And spare me the righteous act. No made man in this thing of ours sticks to one woman. At least I had the decency to plan on coming back to you and the family once you've given birth."
My hand instinctively moved to my belly, where a storm of sorrow and anger brewed.
After I became pregnant, my body had changed in ways I could not control. I gained weight and my legs swelled like carrots.
Cramping woke me in the dead of night, and relentless sickness stole my sleep.
My once fair, delicate skin turned rough and sallow.
At first, Lorenzo had seemed concerned. It did not take long for his patience to wear thin. He buried himself in the rackets, gone until all hours at the club every night, the crew his alibi.
The disgust in his eyes was unmistakable, especially when his gaze fell to the stretch marks across my belly.
For the sake of our child, I chose to pretend not to see these things. I kept convincing myself that everything would be fine once the baby came.
Now, how could he take the sacrifice I had made and turn it into a knife to belittle me, while I endured all of it only to give him a child of his own blood?
I realized that I could not keep bleeding my dignity dry for a man who placed no value on his own child.
"Lorenzo Moretti, I want a severance. Before the Family. All of it."
Lorenzo's indifferent face instantly froze, but his confidence stayed unshaken when he spoke. "And where would you go? Pregnant with my child and cast off? Stay in line, and the name Moretti stays yours."
Seeing the pain and sadness etched into my face, he softened his tone. "Be obedient, and I promise you, the only Moretti children ever born will come from your womb."
Gemma twisted her waist dramatically, her voice dripping with feigned distress. "Lorenzo, don't upset Mrs. Moretti over me. She's still carrying your child!"
Lorenzo pinched her slender waist, playful, in front of everyone. "That woman? Pregnant or not, she's just being melodramatic."
The sight of them flirting openly, treating me like furniture in the room, was unbearable. A wave of nausea churned in my stomach.
"Ugh! Blergh!"
The contents of my stomach came up, and Gemma and Lorenzo, standing nearest, caught the splash.
Gemma worst of all. Her coat was now stained with the sour remnants, the fabric ruined.
She yanked it off, her eyes red with rage, and snapped at me, "You wretched bitch! Did you do that on purpose?"
My fury boiled over and I slapped her hard across the face. "Who are you calling a bitch?"
The slap rocked her so hard she shoved me back with all her strength.
"Lorenzo, you have to stand up for me! My holiday coat, the one you gave me, ruined!"
A waiter hurried over with a hot towel to clean up the mess. Meanwhile, Lorenzo warned me, his voice dropping low enough that the table went still. "Serafina. That's enough."
