The test of a man or woman's breeding is how they behave in a quarrel.

-George Bernard Shaw

The drive to Naples was more gruesome than our fight yesterday morning. We are confined on his ground-eating fast Ferrari while he drives as if the hounds of hell were following us. I tried to keep my gaze on my window as the beautiful scenery just passed like blur in my vision. I am scared to death but refusing to tell him that little information.

If Lucca Cavelli intended on killing me, he was doing a successful job on it.

He surprised me when he suddenly showed up in Amalfi on Friday morning after a week of cold silence. What I really hate is that he barged in and growled at everyone as if he hated the world and its inhabitants.

He also made Allegra cry last night when the poor girl only wants to ask if he wants coffee. "Don't you think I won't ask if I want one?"

"I—I'm sorry, forgive me, Your Excellency." The teary-eyed girl said as she went to the kitchen.

"Abusing your staff is becoming your favorite pastime, Lucca." I told him once the poor girl was out of sight.

He scowled at me. "If you want to fight with me just say so."

"Did I say I want one?" I asked him irately. Really, talking to him since he arrived was more difficult than learning the intricate of waltz. "I just came here to ask what kind of clothes I need to pack."

He swore under his breath and closed his eyes. "I don't know. Something formal and casual, maybe."

I nodded and decided to provoke him. I had to admit that I'm still smarting to his attitude this morning. "I get it. Well, I will leave you now on your brooding, Your Excellency."

Before he could form any snarky reply on my provoking, I left him...

"Aren't you going to talk to me?" He dragged me out of my reverie. "Need I remind you that we're going on our wedding celebration?"

"Don't talk to me, just drive." I replied frostily, my gaze fixed on my window.

I heard him take a deep breath. "What can I do just so you can forgive me, Tatiana?"

"Apologized to Gio."

I knew he would do anything but that. I've already asked him for that apology yesterday several times, but he always refused. "He should be thankful that I didn't sack him."

"He didn't do anything!" I shouted as I faced him. "Why do you need to fire him?"

"Because he crossed the line."

"What line?"

"You are my wife and he's just your driver and yet he's touching you." He said. I could sense the fury bubbling again inside him, he changed gears vigorously.

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose for a growing headache. "Your jealousy was out of place, Lucca."

"No, it's not."

"Really?" I asked dryly. "From what I read about you in the internet you wouldn't care less if your latest mistress was flirting with another man."

He gave a wolfish smile in my direction which annoyed me. "Ah, there's a difference in that, my dear. They were just my fling and you are my wife which makes you my woman."

"Temporary wife," I reminded him, yet my heart jolted at his words. "Everything about us is temporary."

"We'll see."

Oh, I will really see that will happen. I cannot let my heart be swayed again by a handsome Italian ever again one bad experience was enough to last a lifetime.

The drive to Palazzo di Cavelli remained silent until we finally arrived at the magnificent palace home of the previous Duke of Caprielle's way back to the fifteenth century. It was a combination of Renaissance and Moorish architecture with marble statues on the garden and huge pillars on the foyer that pronounced the glory and pride of the Cavelli's for centuries.

Once Lucca parked his Ferrari in the driveway on the entrance hall, he reminded me. "Remember we are a happy couple. We have to let people, especially my mother, know that we are in love not in the middle of a quarrel when I introduce you later to her."

"Don't you think I don't know that?" I hissed at him as I unhook my seatbelt. "I know how to play my part. I'm expecting you to do the same."

"Oh, believe me I will." He said as we slid out of the car.

Once we were walking on the marble steps on the foyer the door opened, and half a dozen uniformed maids greeted the duke and his duchess.

Suddenly, I was transported back on my childhood days when Papa was still alive, and we get the same reception whenever we are in Russia. They will bow at Papa as if he was the king they should obey. At the end of the line I saw Signore Felipe who stood with quite a smile on his leathery face.

"Welcome to Palazzo di Cavelli, Your Excellency"

The maids automatically get our luggage and bring it to the grand staircase on the second floor. True to his words, Lucca played his part as my loving husband, he placed his hands on my waist as he led me to the stairs.

"I will show you your room, amore mio."

I pretend to give him a sweet smile for the sake of the maids and Signore Felipe who were left below discreetly watching the duke become besotted to his bride. "Thank you, darling."

The deviltry flashed on his gray eyes. He was enjoying this more than he should have, has he? Well, once I get alone with this cold-hearted duke, I will say what I really think about him.

He led me to the endless corridors and before we stopped at the end of the south wind of the palace and entered the huge double door room.

"This is your room." He announced as we entered the huge room with classic-style furniture. "This is the bedroom of the Duchess of Caprielle."

I look at the beautiful room who happened where the duchess was installed dated back to the fifteenth century. Then I notice a connecting door on the other side. "What's that door for?"

Lucca smiled wolfishly at my direction. Heat flashed on his gray eyes. "That's the door that connects to my room, mia moglie. So, yeah, my bedroom was next to yours."

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

The cursed smile was still on his face. "I'm not."

"Well, I will ask Signore Felipe for the key." I told him, refusing the stupid blushed creep to my cheek. "Because I intended to be sure that there would be no midnight visit."

Lucca surprised me when he laughed deeply. "You're lucky that we're no longer in the medieval ages, darling. Or you'll find yourself tied up in my bed forever and your only purpose in life is to please me."

"As if!"

His reply was installed when a discreet knock on the door. A uniformed maid entered and made a deep courtesy. "Your Grace, the dowager duchess is informing you to visit her in her apartment with your bride."

My breath was caught. I feel so nervous suddenly. Taking my hard, Lucca said. "Let's go."

With every measured step from my stilettos I followed Lucca where his mother was waiting for us.

Will she like me? Was my final thoughts as I left my room.

We walked to my mother's private room. I could feel that Tatiana's hand was shaking as I held it with mine. She was nervous.

I led her to the other side of the palazzo where my mother's apartments are located. Ironically, we went here because my mother had learned that I got married without her knowing it. She felt deprived of the opportunity to arrange my wedding.

It took fifteen minutes of her scolding over the phone yesterday before she decided that it was enough rebuke for her son. Before she left me off the hook for good, she squeezed a promise to me that she will hold a ball tomorrow for the celebration for our wedding.

I have no choice but to give in.

"Don't worry," I told my wife as we near my mother's room. "She'll like you."

"I certainly hope so."

I knocked to my mother's room before entering.

"Lucca!" My mother threw her arms around my neck once we entered. "How are you, mio figlio?"

I lowered my head so she could kiss me. "Hello, mama."

"Oh!" My mother said, "Is this your lovely wife?"

I drew Tatiana forward so my mother could see her. "Mariya, this is my mother, Sophia Anna Cavelli. Mama, this is my wife, Mariya."

"Hello, Your Excellency." Tatiana bowed.

"Please, call me mama." My ever kind mother said warmly as she enveloped my wife to a hug. "You are now my daughter."

"Mama." Tatiana repeated wobbly as she hugged my mother back. I could see that she was fighting her tears. I wanted to comfort her, but I don't think she will appreciate it when things are still brittle between us.

"You know what, Lucca?" My mother was saying. "Why don't you leave me and your wife so we could have a little chat and maybe talk if she wants something to add for your wedding celebration tomorrow?"

"Is that okay with you, il mio amore?"

Tatiana nodded stiffly as my mother pulled her on the sofa.

"We'll be fine, Lucca," my mother reassured.

What else can I do? I bowed to them slightly before exiting my mother's apartment. Thinking how the hell we supposed overcomes the ball tomorrow when my wife and I barely talk to each other. I'm sure people would notice that brittleness around us.

One way or the other, before the day ends, we need to mend our rifts.

One way or the other.