I clenched my fists, trying to control the surge of anger. "I'd rather spend the rest of my life alone than marry into a family of judgmental hypocrites," I shot back, my voice trembling with restrained fury.
As I stood up, the next thing I felt was a sharp slap across my cheek. It wasn't from my father or my brothers, but from Mario's mother.
"What!"
"You will not speak to my son in that tone!" she exclaimed, and my heart ached painfully. My father sat there with a proud smile, seemingly pleased that this confrontation was unfolding.
Mario stepped close to me and gripped my neck tightly, his hold tightening until I almost choked, and yet no one intervened.
"You need to learn your place, Cassandra," Mario sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Women like you belong in the kitchen, catering to their husbands' needs."
