We don’t say a word as he carries me to the shower and, as per habit, takes care of me.
After dressing, we have breakfast with Noah, laughing and joking together, but Dante doesn’t speak to me.
When it’s time for him to leave for the office, I walk him to the door.
His face remains unreadable and far away from anything he showed me this morning as he bends over me, drowning me in his subtle scent and masculinity. “Tell Emily I won’t be home for dinner.” He brushes his lips over mine. “Don’t wait up.”
And then he’s gone.
A sinking feeling drags me down. I thought I’d torn down his walls, but he’s put up ten more, each of them more impenetrable than before.
I worry about our unspoken exchange all morning, but the day is sunny, and playing with Noah and Flash lifts my spirits. I call Jazz to see how she’s doing and tell her that I’m looking for a job. I’m lucky that Dante isn’t like many other made men. If it had been up to my father, I would’ve never worked. Many men in the organization refuse because our archaic society condemns self-sufficient wives. The males see it as their job to take care of their women. But working is about so much more than just earning money, although the financial freedom will be welcome. I’ve always wanted to be independent, which my father and Leander never understood.
I want to show Dante how grateful I am for the good husband he is to me. Most of all, I don’t want to leave things like we did this morning. I don’t like it when he shuts me out.
When Noah goes to the playroom after his mid-morning snack, an idea pops into my head. Emily once more offers to watch him while I run upstairs and put on a pretty pink dress with matching heels. I take up my hair and apply light make-up.
Once I’m ready, I grab my bag and check on Noah. He’s engrossed in putting together the new train set Dante has gotten for him. Flash naps close by in his bed. Emily sits in an armchair with a book open in her lap.
She tells me to take as long as I need. After kissing Noah goodbye, I go in search of Ulysses as Reino is off duty.
He stands on the front porch, dressed in a T-shirt, sleeveless jacket, and faded jeans.
“Do you mind driving me to Dante’s office?” I ask after I’ve greeted him. “I’d like to surprise him for lunch. I can always take a car, but I suppose you’ll have to accompany me.”
He climbs down the steps and opens the back door of the city car that’s parked in the driveway. “It’s my job to escort you, Mrs. Morici.”
I thank him and get inside.
I’m lost in thought as we drive to the office, staring through the window while contemplating how to broach the subject of this morning. A restaurant is hardly the place for an intimate discussion, so it will have to wait for tomorrow as Dante will be home late tonight. My stomach ties into a knot when I think he’s probably going out on another job.
It’s close to one o’clock when Ulysses turns into the street of Dante’s office building. As we approach the Italian restaurant, he curses under his breath.
Alarmed, I tear my gaze from the window. “Is something wrong?”
He catches my gaze in the rearview mirror. “I totally forgot. Mr. Morici has a lunch appointment today. He’s not in the office. Shall I drive you home, Mrs. Morici?”
That doesn’t make sense. Ulysses doesn’t strike me as someone who forgets anything. “I’d like to go to the office anyway. We’re here already. I may as well say hi to Penny.”
Ulysses shifts in his seat. “I think Penelope called in sick.”
He’s lying to me. What’s going on? Why doesn’t he want me to go to Dante’s office?
Just then, my gaze falls on a man that stands out from the pedestrians crowding the sidewalk. It’s not only because of his tall, muscular frame and the ink on his hands. It’s not only his handsome face or the way his strong body fills out his dark suit. It’s the way he carries himself—with ease and confidence. It’s the power he exudes, the dangerous vibe that surrounds him. I stare at that man as he walks down the street, a man I’ve welcomed in my bed and heart, a man for whom I’ve never put up walls.
Dante.
He’s walking next to a tall, gorgeous woman with blond hair hanging like a shiny curtain to her waist. Her black coat matches his suit. They make a formidable pair, moving heads as far as they go. She stares up at Dante with a dazzling smile as he guides her around a puddle of water with his hand on her back.
“Fuck.”
The expletive reaches me through the white noise that rings in my ears. It takes me a moment to realize it was Ulysses who’s spoken.
He rolls along slowly as we near them, watching me as if he expects me to jump out of the car and confront them.
They stop in front of the Italian restaurant, turning to face each other. Dantes smiles and says something. Whatever she replies makes him laugh. The gesture brings out his dimple, the one he normally tries to hide by smiling a practiced smile.
Taking her arm, he guides her up the steps. The owner himself opens the door. He shakes Dante’s hand and pats his back. The woman holds out her hand. The owner takes it and kisses her knuckles without touching his lips to her skin.
