Maybe red was my color. A knock at the door then an invitation from my mother for our guest to enter produced my father and brother. Luca smirked at my choice of dress. On the other hand, my father didn’t seem amused. “Lucia…” “Don’t get her started, Leonardo,” my mother interjected, moving to stand beside him. “You encouraged her to be the woman she is today, save the traditional talk for never.” “Do me a favor, figlia.” Daughter. “Try not to kill the man before sun up?” My lips curved immediately and he chuckled.
