"Absolutely not."
I frown. "What do you mean, absolutely not?"
"I mean no." Bruno's lips twitch. "You're not getting a job."
"Why not?"
"Because you don't need one."
"I need money, Bruno." I sit up fully now. Cross my arms over my chest. "I need to do things. Buy things. I can't just sit around this compound all day doing nothing."
"You won't be doing nothing." Bruno reaches for me. Tries to pull me back down. "You'll be doing me."
I swat his hand away. "I'm serious."
"So am I."
"Bruno—"
"Antonella." He catches my wrist. Holds it firmly. "Unless you forgot, you're married to me."
"I'm aware."
"Then you should also be aware that you have more money than you could ever imagine."
I stare at him. "What?"
"You're a Sartori now." Bruno's thumb traces circles on my wrist. "My wife. Everything I have is yours. Every account. Every asset. Every property."
"I don't want your money."
"It's not my money." His grip tightens. "It's our money. Yours and mine."
"That's not—" I shake my head. "That's not the same thing."
"It's exactly the same thing."
"No, it isn't." I pull my wrist free. "I want to earn something. Build something. Have something that's mine because I worked for it, not because I married into it."
"You want independence."
"Yes."
"You want to prove you're more than a transaction."
My throat tightens. "Yes."
Bruno is quiet for a long moment. His gaze holds mine. Searching. Assessing.
"The answer is still no."
"Bruno—"
"You're not getting a job." He reaches for me again. This time I let him pull me down. "But we can discuss... alternatives."
"What kind of alternatives?"
"Tomorrow." He tucks me against his side. Pulls the blankets over us both. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."
