It takes me a moment to process the words through the haze. "Congratulations. Have fun."
"You're coming with me."
My stomach drops. "What? No. I have school tomorrow?—"
"You'll be back by ten. And you need the practice."
"Practice?"
"Playing the role. Being my girlfriend in public." His eyes meet mine, and there's still heat there, barely banked. "My father's party is in three days. Imagine this dinner is a trial run."
"I'm not ready?—"
"You're ready." He gestures to the dress I'm still wearing. "Change. We leave at six-thirty. Wear something appropriate but understated."
"You can't just order me to?—"
"I can. I am." He heads for the door, pauses at the threshold. "And Bianca? Leave your hair down tonight. I like it that way."
Then he's gone.
And I'm left standing in this ridiculous, beautiful dress, breathing hard, my body still humming from his touch.
Trying to figure out when exactly I lost control of this situation.
When I started wanting things I absolutely shouldn't want from a man who owns me.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Dante
I close the door behind me and stop.
Don't move. Don't breathe. Just stand there in the hallway with my hand still on the doorknob, trying to get my goddamn control back.
What the hell was that?
I don't lose control. Ever. Control is what separates me from men like Adrian, from men who make emotional decisions that get them killed. Control is what's kept me alive, kept me valuable, kept me in Matteo's inner circle for over a decade.
And I just threw it all away because Bianca Mancini looked at me with those hazel eyes and made a sound that's going to haunt me for weeks.
I wanted to push her against that wall and?—
No.
I press my palm against my forehead, forcing the thoughts back. This is a business arrangement. She's a means to an end. A way to avoid Caterina Bellandi and keep my father off my back. Nothing more.
Except my body didn't get that memo. Neither did the part of my brain that's still replaying the way her nipples hardened through that dress, the way she gasped when I touched her, the way she looked at me like she wanted to hate me and kiss me in the same breath.
I need distance. Work. Something to redirect this before I do something we'll both regret.
I'm about to head to my office when I hear her voice through the door.
"Hi, Mom."
I stop in my tracks.
"No, I'm good. Really good, actually." Her voice is softer than I've ever heard it. "How are you feeling today? Did the nurse say anything about your counts?"
