Dante Valentino
"I have a meeting."
"No," said Fabiano, settling himself on the chair across my desk. "Why do you have her in your house, Dante?"
"I wasn't aware I needed to ask you, Fabi."
"I just want an explanation."
"Did you give me one when you kidnapped Leyla?" I looked back at my laptop screen. "I have work to do, Fabiano. Leave."
"Seriously?" Asked Leyla. "I am right here and can hear my name even when you are speaking Italian!"
I looked at her. She was standing near the door, dressed in another giant coat which was unsurprisingly red. "Why do you have her, Dante? Let's just get this over with."
I shrugged. "She is fun."
"Okay, now let's go." She walked to Fabiano and tugged at his sleeve. "They will give our table away!"
"They will not," Fabiano assured in the softest voice I had heard. "I will be back," he warned me and then walked out with Leyla who waved at me.
My assistant entered the office as soon as they were gone. "Your three O'clock is here."
I nodded. "Send him in."
. . .
I went to the boutique when I was free, after making sure she was there.
The building was tiny and belonged to Luca's grandmother - Mia.
I found Blue sitting on a chair, scrolling through her phone, while a woman who looked to be a staff talked about styles and colours. Blue seemed to be barely listening.
The woman stopped speaking as she saw me and that caught Blue's attention. She looked up and her dark eyes fell on me. She was dressed in a red dress which tightened around her torso and loosened around her legs.
She stood. "What are you doing here?" She folded her arms against her chest.
"I was free," I said, eyes moving over her body. She was wearing dark heels which made her a tad bit taller.
"No one to torture?"
So, brave Blue was running the show today.
I smirked and the staff quickly disappeared between the rows of clothes. I walked towards Blue, putting a hand on the wall behind her.
"That's a pretty dress," I said.
"I don't like it." She looked away from my face.
I cupped her chin, making her look at me. "Why such hostility, Blue?"
"You know why," she muttered.
"Because I offered you protection the only way I could offer you protection?" I asked. "That isn't that good of a reason to hate me, si?"
"Why did you even offer me protection?" She muttered. "Guilt?"
"I presume you know who killed Pietro."
"I do. Is that why you're helping me?" She tilted her head, looking deep into my eyes as if she could read my thoughts like written words.
"I feel no guilt for killing him, Blue." I rubbed my thumb on the spot right below her bottom lip.
"Then why are you helping me?"
"You're pretty," I said.
She let out a forced chuckle. "I have seen your Mafia women, Dante. Prettiness can certainly not be the reason."
"Why?" I asked. "Have you not looked at yourself, Blue?" I looked at the mirror beside us, showing her pressed to the wall with me looming over her. She looked at me through the mirror, at the thumb I still had rubbing the skin of her chin. She took in a shaky breath.
I bent down to her ear, maintaining eye contact. "Look at yourself," I muttered. "How could I not help this pretty face..."
She pushed me away. "I am hungry."
"Buy the dress."
She huffed. "Okay. But I am not going to the party."
"Okay."
. . .
Lily Jenkins
"So there was an actual person in the bedroom, seconds away from stabbing me to death, when your bodyguard stopped him?"
Dante nodded like I had just told him the weather. This man was going to drive me insane.
I took a sip of water, trying to collect my thoughts. Two brushes with death. I would have been dead if Dante hadn't come with his weird arrangement.
I looked around the restaurant we were in. It wasn't an extravagant, glittering restaurant I'd expect him to take me to. It was small, with wooden furniture and the smell of spice.
It was nice. And the pizza I had ordered had been divine. There was something about small restaurants - they told stories.
I looked back at Dante who was quietly eating his food. He had a thing for being quiet, for not saying a thing or making a sound.
I took a sip of my espresso. "You said you'd help me sell the house."
"I already hired a realtor," he said. "We will have to wait for a while for a good offer. I presume you will be gone as soon as the mansion is sold?"
I nodded. "I just need money to establish myself somewhere."
He rubbed his bottom lip. "I do not mean to rain on your parade, but...your father's family will chase you."
"I'll hide."
He stayed quiet for a while and then nodded. "Okay."
He didn't speak anything for the rest of the day.
. . .
(2/3)
