The Mafias Princess

Twenty Eight

My smile drops, confusion only on my face now. Did I say it wrong? Maybe I should say it again...

" Hai il piccolo cazzo" I say again, this time pronouncing the words more clearly. Why did Connor look so pissed?

" And what does that mean?" He says. Isn't he Italian, shouldn't he know this stuff. My pronunciation couldn't have been that bad.

" It means happy birthday, aren't you Italian?" I sigh.

" Very." He says, turning around and setting a murderous gaze on Matteo as he walks straight towards him. As soon as Matteo sees Connor walking towards him he drops his drink and sprints out of the house, pushing people out of his way as he laughs like a mad man.

What happened?

I watch in confusion, looking down at the box of cookies in my hand.

Well, at least he liked the cookies.

As I'm getting a drink my ears unconsciously tune into a group of women's conversation when I hear Connors name.

" We used to fuck until he got engaged, now he doesn't want to have fun with me apparently." A tall red head sighs as she inspects her nails.

I feel angry knowing how many women he's probably slept with before, no wonder why he was so good when doing...things.

" How did a girl like her get him wrapped around her finger anyways?" Another woman snickers, this time she had dark brown hair and bright green eyes. Everyone here looked like models, too bad their personalities were so rotten.

" My daddy told me I would have gotten married to him if it weren't for the Novikovs making the deal first." Another woman rolls her eyes, I notice her glancing at me and she straightens her back after noticing I could hear them.

" Shut up Anne he would've never chosen you, my family has more money."

" At least I didn't have to pay my way to beauty." She scoffs as she takes a sip of champagne.

Wow, they really were true friends.

I jump in my spot when I feel someone's hand on my shoulder only to come face to face with Matteo who looked like he had just ran a marathon.

" Did I scare you?" He laughs out of breathe and I push his shoulder away annoyed.

" No, you don't scare me." I scoff, ignoring him as I take another drink from the table.

" Hey, let me have some of that I'm parched." He breathes, taking my water and chugging the entire glass down.

I watch him, dumbstruck, as he puts the glass back down, letting out a refreshed breath.

" Why was he going after you anyways?" I ask, and Matteo snorts.

" Well, maybe if you tell him happy birthday in Italian again he might tell you."

" Why can't you just tell me now?" I ask, my eyebrow raised.

Matteo just shrugs his shoulder. " It's more fun that way."