Agata Gallo finally pushes her ornate high-back dining chair away from the table, signaling the end of dinner. I stifle an exhale of relief.

“I hope you liked the eggplant parmesan, Archie.” She says it in a sugary tone that really means, “I don’t give a fuck if you liked the eggplant parmesan, Archie.” She gracefully swoops the empty casserole dish from the gold-veined marble table.

I give her a curt nod. “It was delicious. All of it. Thank you.”

Sophia’s hand smooths over the rigid muscles of my thigh and gives a light squeeze right before she stands and helps her mother carry the dishes to the sink.

This dinner has been a fucking train wreck with the entire Gallo family at the wheel.

Things were tense from the minute I entered the door with Sophia and River. But the awkwardness ramped up tenfold once I overheard Agata telling her daughter to consider giving her ex a second chance. Apparently, the Gallo matriarch is mainly concerned about repairing her social status without giving two shits if it hurts Sophia in the process. Keeping up appearances is numero uno for Agata.

Anyway, Sophia stomped out the idea of a reunion with Josh by casually informing her family that she loves the fuck out of me and that I—not Josh—am the father of her child.

At that moment, I was sure Nonna Lucia was about to go into cardiac arrest. The old lady took a violent, shuddering breath and immediately pulled out her rosary beads. Then, she started muttering prayers for our condemned souls under her breath.

Sophia’s pregnant sister, Angie, turns to her husband, Ben. “Be right back. I’ve gotta go use the bathroom.”

He gives her an uncomfortable grin. “Hurry back. I miss you already.”

She chuffs out a knowing laugh and whispers by his ear. “Dad’s not so bad, babe. Just…don’t look him straight in the eye. Never look him straight in the eye.” On those words of wisdom, she waddles off.

Okay…that put me right at ease.

Gianni Gallo is sprawled back in his seat at the head of the table. He doesn’t even bother to make small talk. He just sits there, mean-mugging me like a cranky TSA agent who caught me with an oversized tube of toothpaste in my carry-on luggage.

I don’t blame the man. Put yourself in his shoes.

He’s never seen me before in his life. And now here I am, bouncing into his house to announce that I’m the random fucker who knocked up his daughter the night she was supposed to be marrying into one of the upstanding families of Copper Heights. I imagine that any father would flip into pissed-off mode in this situation.

River sits in the high chair next to me, looking like she just escaped a bloodbath. She’s fucking adorable as she struggles to pinch a slippery, tomato sauce covered ravioli between her fingers. When she finally gets it, she smashes the meat-stuffed pasta into her mouth and grins. My chest goes tight and I grin, too. This child is life. Just one look at her and I remember why I’m sitting here, enduring this level of passive-aggressive toxicity in the first place.

I have a family and they’re mine to love and protect. I won’t let some grumpy, old man get in the way of that. Even if he happens to be Sophia’s father.

I feel Gianni’s monster paw on my shoulder. He nods his chin at Ben and then at me before gesturing toward the sliding door leading out to the expansive patio. With an unsmiling expression, he tugs back the lapel of his black sports jacket. My defenses go on high alert. I half-expect him to flash me a pistol. But instead, it’s just an innocuous pack of cigars in the chest pocket of his dress shirt. “Let’s go get some fresh air, gentlemen.”

Sophia glances over at us from the kitchen sink. She groans and rolls her head up toward the ceiling. “Dad…”

He gives his daughter a hard glare. “I’ll play nice,” he promises in a flat tone that convinces absolutely no one.

Sophia’s cousin, Franco, leads the way. Ben and I share a look behind his back then get up from the table. I feel a bit self-conscious about my limp so I linger behind them. When I step outside, I carefully slide the door shut to make sure River stays inside.

Gianni plops down in a lounge chair placed alongside the massive in-ground pool and passes the cigars and lighter around. When everyone’s got their expensive cancer sticks all lit up, the old man glowers at me. "So, let me get this straight—my daughter went to Las Vegas to marry one man but she left Las Vegas forty-eight hours later pregnant by another man?”

Ben winces and throws me a sympathetic look.

I clear my throat and straighten in my seat. “That’s one way to look at it.”

He blurts out a sarcastic laugh. “There are other ways to look at it?”

“Well, you could say that she went to Vegas to marry a man who didn’t love her and while she was there, she met a man who would lay down his life for her.”

At that response, he falls silent. He sucks his cigar between his lips and seems to consider. After a long while, he glances over at me, his expression still as hard as ever. “I’m not trying to be rude. I’m just genuinely trying to understand what the fuck happened.” His face grows red. “Because I could have bought a small island near Nekker and been neighbors with Richard fucking Branson for the amount of money I spent on that wedding.”

My entire left side has been cramping and seizing all day, my frayed nerves screaming for relief. Having this conversation is the last thing I want to be doing.

My response is downright defiant. “I’m sorry the wedding cost you that much money but the way I look at it, you can’t put a price tag on your daughter’s happiness.”

Beside me, Ben makes a noise that tells me I’m walking a fine line and that I’m one misstep away from unleashing the old man’s ire.

Mr. Gallo is a big guy. There’s nothing soft and cuddly about him. But I can tell that he loves his daughters. He just wants to protect them. I can relate to that sentiment.

Maybe I’m coming at him the wrong way. I clear my throat and address him again. More respectfully, this time. “Sir, Sophia made a huge error in judgment when she agreed to marry her ex but it led her to me and you can rest assured that I am the right man for her.”

He considers me carefully for another long beat. I hold his stare despite my discomfort. He points his cigar in my direction. “Y’know, I think I might like you. One day.”

Sounds promising to me.

The old guy glances over his shoulder toward the kitchen to see if the women are paying attention. Then, he rests his elbows on his knees and leans in toward Ben and me. “Let me tell you fellas a story.” Gianni tips his meaty chin up at us. “I have a sister. Marina. You know Marina?” he asks Ben.

“No, sorry. Never met her,” Ben says.

Gianni’s Italian accent comes out, front and center, as he tells the story. “Anyway, that’s not important.” He waves a hand in the air and ashes tumble from his cigar. “Lemme get to the important part. I have this sister, Marina, and she married this punk from Jersey. Raphaelo was his name.”

“My father,” Franco chimes in.

“Yeah, Franco’s bastard father,” Gianni continues. “Anyway, Raphaelo was the world’s dumbest fucker because he thought he could run around on my sister, break her heart, make her cry and all that shit.” His eyes narrow to slits and he lowers his voice so low I feel myself leaning closer to hear him. “I got sick of it.” Then his voice explodes, causing me to jolt in my seat. “That’s why I chopped off his balls!”

I blink, shocked, and Franco nods in confirmation.

“Yes, I chopped off his balls then I put them in a box with a postage stamp and shipped them off to his girlfriend’s shitty, rundown apartment in Three Oaks.” He takes a long puff from his cigar. “Marina was upset—I mean—who can blame her? Raphaelo was her husband.” Gianni’s brows furrow with something that almost resembles regret. “I gotta say it hurts that she doesn’t come to Sunday dinner anymore but the point is, she and Raphaelo are happy now. They bought a house and moved up near the water and they’re happier than they’ve ever been.” Tears glint in the man’s eyes. With his cigar pinched between his lips, he leans back in his seat and smiles wistfully as he reminisces. Then his attention flashes back to me. He lifts one eyebrow. “Now, that’s not a threat…” he assures me with an appeasing hand gesture.

“No, not at all,” Franco echoes.

“…But I just want you to understand that I love my daughters a million times more than I love Marina. So just, keep that in mind. Always.” He sniffs back the remnants of his tears.

Um, okay then…

I glance over at Ben for cues on how to handle this conversation but he’s sprawled back in his chair with his cigar in hand and a faint smile on his lips, face up to the sky, like he’s heard these threats a thousand times before. “Got it, sir.” He says breezily.

I clear my throat and sit upright in my seat. “Mr. Gallo, from the night I met your daughter, there’s been no one else. Not in my heart and not in my bed.” I hold his gaze unflinchingly. “Sophia will always be the only woman for me. And if, for whatever reason, we can’t be together, I’d spend the rest of my life alone because once you get a taste of true love, nothing else in the world can compare.”

The man watches me, his intent eyes examining my face for any trace of insincerity. He won’t find it.

Once he’s satisfied that I’m being truthful, Gianni turns over his shoulder and yells in the direction of the kitchen. “Agata—we need some beers out here.”

The sliding glass door tears open and the well-dressed woman sticks her head outside, eyes blazing. “I’ll say it again—you need to hire a new butler because that’s definitely not me.” She turns on her heel and stomps back into the kitchen.

The man grunts under his breath as he eases out of his chair. “Women…When you love ‘em, you let ‘em get away with the most dreadful shit.” He saunters in through the door and Agata’s yelp erupts into the air when he slaps the prissy woman on the ass. Hard.

Franco throws us a glare and then gets up and follows his uncle inside.

Ben looks over at me with a chuckle. “You know that story is all bullshit, right?”

I huff under my breath. “Well, damn.”

“Yeah, that’s the ‘scare you straight’ speech he gives me every now and then. Passive aggressive as hell. Harmless, ultimately. Just a reminder to treat his daughter well.”

“I don’t need a reminder,” I chuckle. Loving Sophia is easier than breathing. Nothing comes more naturally to me.

“I couldn’t agree more. Angie is my life. But it makes him feel better to think that he’s controlling the situation with his intimidation bullshit.” Ben shrugs a shoulder.

The sun slowly sets and the sky falls into darkness. Ben tells me about his upcoming promotion at the fire station and I tell him what it’s like to work at the daycare. We get caught up in the conversation. I let my guard down and start to relax.

The next thing I know, there’s a huge splash in the pool. I hear a child’s whimper before the sound gets swallowed up by the water.

“River!” I shoot to my feet but the sudden movement causes my entire left side to freeze up. My muscles lock in place and I tip over, hitting the ground hard.

Ben springs into action. He sprints toward the pool and leaps in without a moment of hesitation. There’s a lot of thrashing in the water and after the most agonizing five seconds of my life, he emerges with my daughter in his arms.

Sophia sprints out of the kitchen, shrieking, hysterical as she grabs ahold of the child. The whole family follows after her. Gianni and Franco immediately start arguing about whose fault it is that the door stayed open. Agata collapses into an embrace with Sophia and River while Angie anxiously wipes water from her husband’s face.

And I just lie there on the cold ground feeling impotent, feeble.

Useless.