"Excuse me?!" Bianca snapped.
"I don't do pretense, Bianca," Valentina continued. "And I have never been one to hold my tongue. You have something to say, say it! Your fake smiles ain't fake enough, sugar."
Luca remained still, fully aware that the fragile civility of the evening had finally shattered but impressed at the fire in Valentina.
"Valentina, I am just trying to make conversation." Bianca said, looking seriously offended.
"Mio figlio…" Nonnina reached across the table and clasped Valentina's hand. The older woman's eyes pleaded for peace.
Valentina turned to her, the fire in her gaze still burning, her lips poised to deliver another cutting remark. She wasn't quite finished with Bianca yet; the words sat on her tongue. But the earnest expression on Nonnina's face gave her pause. The room seemed to hold its breath as Valentina exhaled slowly, allowing the anger to ebb—if only slightly.
