She scoffs, "I'm a half Japanese." She said in a mocking voice before pinching me. "Don't you use that on me? Admit it; you're as white as me," she rolls her eyes. "Half Japanese," she mumbles under her breath before shaking her head.
"I'm still Asian!" Even if it's only half.
"We are not making your enemy of an ancestor food!" she declared boldly.
"Then what do you suggest we make?"
She shrugs and grabs the pasta then begins tilting it back and forth. "American spaghetti-o."
"They hate Americans."
Lily tug a brow, "And yet they decide to put their precious dick inside of one." She tilts her head, "Which means they do not dislike Americans as much as we may believe." She throws the box inside the cart. "Plus, everyone hates Americans. So, self-entitled."
"You were an American citizen not too long ago."
"Yes, and that's how I know Americans are self-entitled. I am self-entitled!"
I sigh, knowing I should just look up some dish later or perhaps ask the chefs to teach me how to make some actual food.
Once we finished shopping and died a little paying the total. We decided to go to a shopping center to purchase the guys some gifts. We got Francesco some new pants, mutually agreeing he needs them. "Maybe whenever he sees these pants, he will remember to keep them in his pants and away from married women," Lily jokes, and I snicker lightly. Behind the childish facade, Francesco is a ruthless man.
Afterward, we decided to get Antonio a shirt. "Should we get him something else? You know...since we accused him of cheating?"
"You accused him," Lily clarified, taking a step back. "I merely suggest a thought." I pinch her causing her to yelp. "Fine. We will get something else as an apology for thinking he cheated when he is indeed a loyal husband," she said blankly. We decided to get him a long jacket.
"Should we get Drew something? I mean, we just met him, but the boys seem to like him, and he has been with Anthony the longest," I said.
Lily puffs a single cheek and nods. "True. Let's get him...pants?"
"Is that all we can come up with?" I ask, leaning against the table "Shirt, coats, and pants?"
"Well I'm sorry we don't have enough money to purchase them a sports car," her voice is dripping with sarcasm, and we both know she isn't sorry. I mean, we shouldn't be sorry after all, we're poor.
Then, there's the fact that Anthony refuses to let me get a job deeming how it's too dangerous. Plus, I can't work with guards hovering over me. Anthony even went as far as masking guards as students at my school.
We sigh, "I wish I won the lottery," she mumbles.
I kick the invisible dirt beneath my shoes. "Me too."
We stuck with the pants.
Then, we agreed that she would get Pietro's gift while I got Anthony. So, we decided to separate and meet again in the parking lot. Walking from store to store, I sigh in defeat. Anthony is a man of wealth; hence he already has everything. My gift probably would only put him to shame. Settling myself in the food court, I sigh once more before glancing at the guard around me.
"Hey," I whisper.
One of them turns towards me. "Yes, Mrs.Maranzano?"
I rest my chin on my palms. "Do you happen to know what Mr.Maranzano likes?"
"Yes," he replies.
"What?"
"You."
I take a few blinks, sensing the people brushing past me probably wondering why there are so many large men around my table. "What does he like to do in his free time?" I decided to change my question.
XLVIII. Broccoli
Start from the beginning
