“Mixed metaphors aside, you’re right. This is going to be a piece of cake,” Dante agreed.
It was not a piece of cake.
For starters, Bianca Bonnycastle was determined to pretend they didn’t exist. Dante would’ve found it amusing, if it didn’t make it so difficult to establish safety protocols. King had decided that for the first few days, they would all work the job together, getting a feel for Bianca’s needs, routines, and associates. Then they’d figure out shifts, though they’d agreed that they’d probably all be on duty whenever she had one of her fancy events.
It was all well and good until Dante approached Bianca to discuss the evening’s arrangements. He found her in her bedroom with those eerily identical assistants of hers fussing over her as she stood in front of a full-length mirror. Her eyes met his in the reflection, sparking like flint.
Dante’s steps faltered. She looked absolutely stunning in a slinky, silver-gray silk dress that was almost the same color as her eyes. It hugged her incredible breasts and nipped in at her slender waist before curving over her hips and falling to barely brush the floor next to her stiletto heels. A slit ran up her right leg, stopping mid-thigh and revealing enough creamy, toned skin to make Dante’s mind wander in dangerous directions.
“Maude, please inform the help that these are my private quarters in which I am not to be disturbed,” Bianca said coldly, her eyes never leaving his in the mirror.
The barb was calculated to cut, but it was so ridiculous that someone actually used the phrasethe helpthat Dante almost laughed. He caught himself in time—Bianca Bonnycastle was not a woman who would enjoy being laughed at—but he couldn’t completely suppress a smile. Bianca’s eyes narrowed.
“Mr. Walker is there something I can help you with?” the assistant on the left asked, as though he hadn’t heard her employer’s condescending words. “Ms. Bonnycastle will be ready for departure in about fifteen minutes.”
“That’s why I’ve come to speak with her,” Dante replied, still holding Bianca’s gaze in the mirror. “We’d like to go over logistics for the evening and make sure Ms. Bonnycastle understands the plan. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
In another moment of sheer ridiculousness, the assistant turned back to her boss and repeated his words. Bianca finally looked away from him, turning her glare on her assistant. Dante couldn’t believe the sweet-looking beta didn’t wither under that viper’s gaze.
Rather than replying, Bianca snapped her head toward the other assistant. “Since Tweedledum can’t seem to understand basic English, perhaps you can make it clear to staff that all requests are to be handled by one of you and that I am not to be bothered with trivialities.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” King demanded, when Dante relayed the conversation.
“I shit you not.” Dante shrugged. “She’s obviously just pissed about the whole situation and trying to show us who’s boss.”
He’d given the rundown to the assistant he’d now begun to think of as Tweedledee, fully within earshot of the person he should’ve been talking to, and had left his client’s “private quarters” feeling slightly foolish and extremely amused. On the one hand, Bianca was obviously stuck up and rude as fuck but, on the other hand, a pack of strange men had just put cameras all over her house and told her they were going to be watching her at all times. It wasn’t that surprising that she’d try to exert what little control she could.
She didn’t acknowledge them when they ushered her from the building, didn’t so much as glance his way when Dante opened her car door. He rode in the back with Bianca and the Tweedles, and never once did she look at him. She seemed determined to pretend he was invisible.
Dante, however, couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of her. Her long, graceful neck. The length of leg revealed by the slit in her dress. The pretty lips that seemed to be curled into a permanent sneer.
And those eyes.
Not to mention her scent. In the close confines of the car, he couldn’t escape the poison apple sweetness of it. He thought he might never escape it.
It was almost a relief when they slid to a stop in front of the theatre. Dante snapped back into focus, exiting the vehicle quickly to do a visual sweep of their surroundings. He’d explained to Tweedledee that when they arrived at the location, the women were to stay in the car until Van and King gave the all clear.
Which is why he was shocked when Bianca flung the door open and began to climb out before he’d even had time to look around. He opened his mouth to speak but suddenly King was there, blocking her exit and scowling down at her. Dante’s heart sank. He’d known it would only be a matter of time before those two had a battle of wills, but he’d hoped they could get through the first night unscathed.
Bianca’s eyes were full of steel and her voice dripped with venom. “Get out of my way.”
King was an unmovable wall of muscle. His hands were clasped behind his back and his posture relaxed, but he was still incredibly intimidating. His face was impassive, a practiced blank mask that Dante had seen a million times, but there was a calculating look in his eyes.
Of course. King had been watching for this moment. He’d probably wanted to have it out before they were responsible for her safety in public.
“Get. Back. In. The. Car.” King radiated a dangerous dominance that had always excited Dante.
Bianca’s lips thinned, her dark brows knitting together. Dante resisted the urge to intervene. He’d always been a bit of a people pleaser. It wasn’t a very alpha trait, but it had kept him and King safe. Eventually, Dante learned to weaponize it, to identify people’s desires and use them to control the situation.
But sometimes he had to resist the impulse to finesse matters. King was a good leader. He’d let Dante try it his way first, but they weren’t going to be able to do their jobs with such an unwilling charge. King would have to earn the angry little omega’s respect. Dante sighed, slid his hands into his pockets, and leaned against the car.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Bianca sneered up at King, hands planted on her slender hips. “I could have you terminated immediately.”
King stepped closer and Dante saw Bianca shift almost imperceptibly. She stiffened her spine, trying (and failing) to look unaffected. Dante could see her pulse fluttering in her neck, could detect a subtle shift in her scent as her pupils dilated.
Interesting. Was she afraid or aroused? Maybe both.
“Do it,” King growled, his gaze locked with hers, their faces inches apart. “March inside, find your fathers, and tell them to hire someone else. Do it right now, Countess, because I’m not doing this with you all night.”
