With the basket clutched to my side, I forced a pleasant smile and shook his hand. Two seconds later, I dropped it—long enough to be polite, but short enough to make him understand that I wasn’t at his beck and call. If he didn’t want to acknowledge what had happened between us last night or acknowledge us at all, I wasn’t going to humiliate myself further by bringing it up.
“It has, hasn’t it?”
Those emerald orbs of his inspected me from head to toe before turning decisively to the person beside me. Just like that, he was done with me. Jesus, I really was an idiot with delusions of grandeur.
“And you must be Brielle.”
He shook Bee’s hand just as impassively as he had mine, for just as long. It made our handshake feel even more insignificant and pointless. I sucked in a shaky inhale and dug my nails into the basket.
“Lovely to finally meet you.” Then he sat, back to cold and aloof.
I shook my head slightly at Bee’s glance of pity.
“And you know of her…because…?” Tore asked.
“I know everything, cousin. Bars or no bars.”
Tore reclined in his seat and clicked on his lighter, twisting the collection item left then right. The flame danced with the motion. “You ever going to tell me who your informant was in my inner circle?”
Renzo didn’t even glance my way. “This secret keeps you on your toes. Why would I?”
“They’re lucky it was for you and no one else. Only reason I didn’t pry deeper.”
“’Course.”
“I still need your phone,” I cut in, holding out the basket in front of Renzo. It was all the more gratifying that, for once, I was taller than him, looking down at him sitting at the table.
“And if I refuse?” There was a dangerous edge to his tone, one that quieted every conversation at the table. A saner person might have gotten the chills or pulled their hand back, but sanity was overrated, and, in my opinion, it just held people back.
“The rules apply to everyone.”
“I make a habit of breaking them.”
It took effort not to scoff and roll my eyes. “Go ahead. You just won’t eat. Looking at Tore won’t change anything. I’ll be as stubborn as I have to be on this, and he knows it. Outside this house, you made men make your own rules. Inside, you follow ours.”
Now I had his full attention, and my body awakened under the blaze in his eyes. The twinge between my legs where he’d been only last night flared, begging me to rub my thighs together. He’d been distant and cold before going to prison. Now, there was a darkness to him that was as alluring as the sharp contours of his face and the broad width of his shoulders. If glares could kill,I’d probably already be six feet under, and somehow that only made me want him more.
“Ren, cugi, you have to excuse her. I told you she can—”
Renzo held up his hand, effectively cutting Tore off. As if to prove his point, he pulled out his gun and placed it on the table, hand still on the grip, finger poised over the trigger.
“Anzy…” Lou’s voice was unnaturally uncertain and shaky.
Ricco half rose, his chair grating against the flooring. I stopped him with a shake of my head.
“Isa,” I called out to the house manager without breaking eye contact with Renzo. “Would you please serve brunch? But please hold off on Mr. Iannelli’s plate. He’s not hungry.”
He sneered, picking up the gun and turning it around. “Aren’t you afraid of what your arrogance is going to cost you?”
“What’s the point if you’re willing to do this all because of a little rule? If not now, you’d find another reason later. So if I die, I die. If I don’t, then I’ll live my life to the fullest. Always on my own terms.” Then I bent in closer and whispered, “I know you. If you really wanted this, I’d already be dead.”
Our faces were inches apart, our breaths intermingling. I could see the small flecks of yellow mixed into the deep green of his irises, the pores on his nose, and the slight scar at the corner of his temple. If I leaned forward just one step, our lips would touch. I was closer to him now than when he’d been inside me. How ironic.
The weight in the basket suddenly increased. I broke our stare to find he’d placed his phone inside. As if we’d agreed upon it, Isa and the maids came out to serve brunch.
“Thank you.” I pulled away, setting the basket on a side table along the house wall.
“Salvatore,” Nannu started, his voice grave and coarse after decades of smoking cigars. “I think it’s time you arrange amarriage for Ainsley. Someone strong enough to tame that will of hers.”
