Daisy blows a raspberry in my face, and I’m startled enough to let her go. “You are so fucking annoying, you know that?” she asks, reclining in her seat now that she’s free.
“Not half as much as you,” I snap back. I can already hear Dante telling me what a miserable, dumb bastard I am. I wouldagree. I’m not normally so reckless with my words, but somehow, this tiny once-civilian woman drives me to the brink of insanity and makes me forget all of my careful training and etiquette.
Daisy shoots me a look I’ve seen on many a woman’s face. It’s the one they give men when they’re being obtuse. All it makes me want to do is strip her bare right here and now and drive my cock into her pussy until all she can think about is how damnimportantshe is to me. But we don’t have time. There’s never enough time.
A glance out of the window reveals that we’re already turning down the long driveway of the Luciani Family Estate. With a groan, I point a finger her way and lower my voice. “This conversation isn’t over,” I inform her.
The noncommittal shrug she gives me makes me want to wring her slender neck. Instead of doing that, though, I wait for the vehicle to come to a stop and step out of the car. I spot the bright cherry-red convertible parked to the right and turn to Alonzo as he steps out with Daisy.
“Take her to Bianca,” I order. “My cousin will look after her while I chat with Don Luciani.”
If Alonzo is surprised by my command, he doesn’t show it. He just takes Daisy’s arm like a good soldier and moves her toward the front of the estate. When this is all over, we’ll talk, but until I take care of Constantin and Emilio, that conversation will simply have to wait.
24
DAISY
Some people are such treasures that they make you want to bury them.
I have one nerve left.Just one.The way Giulio turns and walks away from me as we arrive in front of a tan-brick estate that looks like it’s come straight out of a New England fairy tale makes me feel like the fucker is dry-humping it like a horny dog. Right now, he’s doing a fantastic impersonation of a headache, and no amount of Excedrin is going to make the bad mood he’s giving me go away.
“This way,” Alonzo says, steering me up the steps as Giulio stomps ahead and disappears into the massive mansion.
If Giulio thinks that I’m going to just let him dictate the rest of my life, he’s in for a surprise. As Alonzo and I march up the stairs, I glance sideways at him. “Is Dante here?” I ask. I should definitely talk to the guy; he’ll know what to do about Giulio. He’ll also hopefully tell me the truth about how much danger Giulio is in, too.
“Yes, but he’s probably going to be meeting with Giulio andDon Luciani as well, so they won’t be available for a while.” We enter the house, and it’s like I’ve stepped backward in time by several decades. My head cranes back and up and up some more.
Holy hell, Giulio might have The Cheesecake Factory money, but the Lucianis have “fuck you” money. The interior of the mansion is a mix of old-world and modern. The chandelier that hangs over the foyer is all crystal and bronze. The lightbulbs ensconced in it are that dull hue that mimics the old weak ones, but the dial on the wall tells me that they’re set that way purposefully and could be turned up to full light at any moment.
“The drawing room is this way.” There’s a drawing room. Yet another sign of “fuck you” money. I feel a little numb as Alonzo practically takes me by the hand like a child through the hallways of the mansion and around the banister that leads up to the second floor. We don’t stop until we reach a double-wide doorway with wooden doors that disappear into the walls, only their edges showing at the seam of the frame.
Inside, an olive-complexioned woman with black hair lounges in a large wingback chair, a book sitting shut in her lap and a phone in her hand. Alonzo announces our presence by calling her name.
“Bianca.”
The woman looks up and reveals the kind of face that I’m used to seeing in movies or on fashion runways. Big, puffy lips, hooded, cinnamon-colored bedroom eyes, and a perfect nose that is neither too big nor too small for her features. When she straightens and drops her legs down from the side of the chair where they’d been perched, I almost sigh with relief. Glancingdown at my own chest, I give them a mental pat. At least there’s one thing I’ve got in spades.
“Who is this?” Bianca rises to her full height and… yup, her face isn’t the only model-worthy part of her. She’s got to be, like, six feet tall or close to it. As she approaches, all lithe muscles and slow, smooth gait, I feel my earlier annoyance with Giulio wane, replaced by curiosity. Now, this girl looks like the main character of a book. I should take some notes about her style and class. Dressed in a floor-length red dress with spaghetti straps and strappy gold sandals on her feet, I take a mental snapshot. Can we say “dark romance” heroine? Because I can.
“I’m Daisy,” I say, jerking a hand out to her.
She looks down at it, confusion furrowing her brow for a second before she takes it. Her eyes, when they lift again, go back to Alonzo, and he answers her question. “She’s Giulio’s wife.”
Those red-brown eyes of hers widen, and she turns back to me. Her handshake becomes firmer, and she smiles. “Well, it’s good to finally meet you,” she says before releasing my hand. “I’m Bianca, Giulio and Dante’s cousin. Sorry I couldn’t make it to your wedding, I was traveling with Uncle Stefano.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say.
“Giulio is meeting with Don Luciani and Dante; he asks that you look after her until they’re finished.” With that, Alonzo pushes me slightly toward her, further into the room.
Bianca smirks at Alonzo, her eyes moving from his face down to his chest. “I can look after you, too, if you want to stick around, Lonny,” she offers.
My brows practically shoot toward my hairline. Oh, damn, she’s smooth. More notes scribbled in my mental notebook. Atake-charge FMC for sure. Gold Letter Publishing might go for it; after all, I would know—I’m exactly the kind of reader who’d dive headfirst into a story like this. I switch my attention from Bianca to the normally easygoing Alonzo, who shuffles backward on his feet and dips his head. Is he… blushing?
“Erm. I should make sure that Giulio doesn’t need anything.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he’s gone, striding back up the hallway toward the front of the mansion.
Bianca snorts and returns to the chair she was in previously. Reaching into the side, she withdraws a pack of cigarettes and props her hip on the window ledge. “He’s so cute when he’s flustered,” she comments, amusement clear in her tone and the way her eyes wrinkle ever so slightly at the sides.
“Are the two of you…” I let the question trail off, but she gets the gist.
