“This is not how we deal with things. Do not let your anger get the better of you,” he said as if he hadn’t just choked the life out of me the day before. “You are not that person. You’re better than that. Now, let’s try this again.”

I remained in a heap on the floor when he released his daughter to help me stand. He surprised me by touching the reddened area where her blow had landed and his lips thinned as he glanced down at his daughter through hard eyes and said, “Ella, this is Vittoria. My wife. Your step-mother.”

Ella’s lip curled in an almost identical way to her fathers and when she opened her mouth to no doubt air her grievances with me, Ettore muttered, “You’d better consider what you’re going to say next very carefully. Cheer camp is next month and I assume you want go.”

Her eyes narrowed on him and then on me. It looked as though it taxed her greatly when, in deadly calm, she uttered steadily, “Hello, Vittoria. I’m Ella.”

She looked angry, but I felt the sadness bubble over inside of her. I felt for the girl. It didn’t feel right to see her punished for a blundering attempt at protecting her family. “Pleased to meet you, Ella. That’s a beautiful name.”

She looked me over in loathing and sneered, “My mother named me,” before folding her arms across her chest and slowly walking away, maintaining eye contact as she made her exit.

The sweet woman from the night before found then was the best opportunity to clear her throat and announce as cheerily as possible. “Alright. I think we’re good over here. Why don’t you all take a seat and we’ll bring the last of the food over.”

Just as Ettore moved to guide us to the table, we were stopped by the wall of grown men. The only openly smiling one immediately tried to diffuse the tension with a joke. “I didn’t know we were allowed one hit. Now, I’ll take it easy on ya, but watch out for Daniele. He’s got mean hook on him and I know he’s been dying to get one in on ya.”

“Sandro,” sighed Ettore, clearly not finding the jest funny.

“What? Oh, come on. It was a joke,” Sandro returned. “Lighten up, Tor.”

Ettore ignored him and instead made introductions. “Vittoria, you may remember my groomsmen. The smiling idiot is Sandro.”

He offered me his hand and I took it cautiously. We shook briefly.

“In the middle is Santino.”

“Tino,” he amended, also offering me his hand. He held it a mere moment, but we didn’t shake.

Ettore ended on, “And this is my brother, Daniele.”

Uh oh. His brother. No wonder he looked like he wanted to sink his teeth into my throat and tear me to pieces.