"I still don't want to," I say quietly.
"I know. But you're going to anyway." He checks his watch. "You have tonight. Sleep where you want. But starting tomorrow, you're in my room. No arguments."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then I'll make it an order instead of a request." His eyes meet mine. "And trust me, you don't want me to start treating this like the business arrangement it is. I've been generous so far. Don't make me remind you what I'm actually capable of."
The threat is clear but delivered calmly. Matter-of-factly.
Somehow that makes it worse.
"You're impossible," I whisper.
"I'm practical." He turns back toward the hallway. "Get some sleep, Bianca. We have a busy day tomorrow."
He walks away, leaving me standing on the stairs, shaking with a confusing mix of anger and something I refuse to name.
I head to the guest room and close the door firmly behind me.
Tomorrow I'll have to face whatever consequences come from defying him.
But tonight?
Tonight this room is still mine.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Dante
I give her the night.
It's more generous than I should be, but something about the way she clutched that pendant—the fear mixed with defiance—told me pushing tonight would break something I'm not ready to fix yet.
So I go to my office, handle emails, review Rafe's reports on the Corsetti situation, and try not to think about Bianca sleeping in that guest room like she's won.
She hasn't.
The next morning, Patterson calls. Right at nine, his voice shaking as he gives me everything—names, dates, meeting locations, bank account numbers. Every piece of information the Corsettis used to plan that attack.
"Good," I tell him when he's done. "I'll pass this to Matteo. What he does with it is his decision."
"But you said?—"
"I said I'd try not to go too much into detail. I will. But Mike?" I lean back in my chair. "Start saying your goodbyes. You have maybe a week."
I hang up before he can beg.
The rest of the day is meetings. Matteo, grim-faced, takes the information and promises to handle it personally. Rafe confirms the Corsettis are scrambling, trying to figure out how we got Patterson to flip. Enzo reports that our territories are secure, no retaliation yet.
By the time I head home, it's after eleven.
The house is dark except for a few lights Maria left on. I loosen my tie as I climb the stairs, already planning tomorrow's schedule. The party is in two days. Bianca needs to be ready.
I push open my bedroom door and stop.
She's not there.
The bed is untouched, perfectly made.
