“Seriously, Cristian?” the Don says, glaring at his son from across his desk, leaning back in his chair even though his whole body is tense. “You married the f*****g stripper?”
“Everyone is aware, yes?” Christian says, his eyes hard on his father, “that she’s also a student, and that dancing was her part-time job? And that I’ve known, respected, and loved her since childhood?”
“God, your f*****g mother,” Romano growls, shaking his head and glaring down at the floor. “f****d you up more than we ever knew. Got you all wrapped up in fantasies about the little blonde next door, when you should be married to –“
“Iris is a wonderful woman,” Christian snaps, leaning forward in his chair and slapping his hand down on the desk.
“She is not for you,” Romano barks back, instant, his eyes snapping
