Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol 1) - Page 45

A maid let us in, and when Lorenzo rounded the corner, Verana’s composure slipped, but I was there, my hand at her back to remind her of her place.

“Verana, what are you doing here?” His question hinted at his nerves and hope. This wasn’t a man used to opposing his daughter, but he was also a man who needed her to obey. Neither of us knew the reason behind it, but whatever it was, it obviously trumped all else.

“Papa, I came by to introduce you to my fiancé.”

Lorenzo’s eyes jerked to mine and narrowed in suspicion. I waited for the flash of recognition, but it never came. “Your what?” he sputtered. “You’re engaged to Camden. Not this-this—”

“Nicholas Rush,” I supplied.

Again, I waited for the recognition in case he’d done his research better than I assumed, but again, it never came.

“He asked me to marry him, and I said yes.”

Pushing for a politeness the situation didn’t have, I reached out my hand, hating even pretending to be polite to the man who destroyed my family. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Mariano.”

He looked down at my hand and back up. Then over to his daughter, then back to me, his face growing more and more red.

“Verana Mariano,” Lorenzo practically growled, pulling his shoulders back just like his daughter. At least he tried to. It lacked the conviction of Vera’s stance. His brow grew damp, and his hands fidgeted at his sides. This was a nervous man on the edge of losing. “Get over here right now.”

Vera took a step closer to my side and slid her hand down my arm to link her fingers with mine. Pride swelled, being the man she reached for. I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit a part of me feared she’d go to her father.

Using her free hand, she reached in her purse and pulled out an envelope I’d given her on the way. When her father didn’t grab it, she set it on the round table, holding a large flower arrangement, and then stepped back to my side.

“I came by to drop off the invitation to the engagement party this weekend. I wanted to give you the same courtesy Camden gave me.”

Her father’s face reddened at the jab. “Your mother—”

“Isn’t here, as you stated the last time we spoke.”

Visibly trying to pull himself together, desperation gave way to anger, and he glared at her, taking deep breaths. When his daughter didn’t crumble under his ire, he refocused his direction to me. “She’s engaged to another man.”

“Not anymore,” I responded easily. “She’s to be my wife. Mr. Conti is welcome to object directly to me but will go nowhere near my fiancée.”

Lorenzo dragged a hand through his hair and down across his mouth, pacing away three steps and turning back. “How the hell did this even happen? Did you meet him at college? On the fucking street?”

“She applied at my company a couple of months ago. Of course, we hired her with her impressive resume. Things progressed from there.” Vera’s head snapped to me at the compliment about her resume, but I refused to pull my attention from her father, instead offering another squeeze to her hand.

“What fucking company?”

“K. Rush Shipping.”

Again, I held my breath, but he was too far gone to even bother to put anything together. He narrowed his eyes at his daughter and took a threatening step closer. I hated the way she flinched when he raised his finger to point at her.

“We talked about this, Verana,” he growled, his hand shaking with anger. “You have obligations to this family. To our community. You’ve known your place, and here you are, acting surprised, lashing out at your own flesh and blood. We raised you better.”

Vera took her own step forward but didn’t let go of my hand. “You’ve done a lot I don’t appreciate.”

“Verana Mariano, I swear to god, I—I will take everything from you.”

“Have it,” she growled. “I don’t need anything from you. This visit is a courtesy. Not an opportunity to intervene.”

Father and daughter stared off until I gently pulled her back.

“We hope to see you this weekend,” I said softly. “For appearances, at the very least.”

Lorenzo remained glued to the spot, his jaw stubbornly clamped shut, as we walked out. Somehow, I managed to hold back my smile from winning the first battle of the war. I opened the door for a still-strong Vera.

Victory surged through me, and I took my time rounding the car, letting a small smirk slip free before sliding in beside her. However, it all stopped when I found her struggling to fasten her seatbelt with trembling hands. I gently set her hands aside and let the seatbelt slide back. She sniffed but didn’t look up or pull back from my touch as I tugged her across the seat and into my arms.

Tags: Fiona Cole Blame it on the Alcohol Romance
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