Raffael lured me in to distract me so Michelo could snitch.
Normally I wouldn’t take the bait.NormallyI would hold my ground, allow the chips to fall and handle the aftermath. But when I told my father months ago that I thought we should sever ties with the Cavallo Group, he didn’t agree like I’d expected.
He didn’t necessarily object, either.
It was the first time I’d ever heard him say,“I’ll think about it,”instead of giving a definitive answer.
Raffael leans in, his graveled voice in my ear. “You wanted control, Ms. Cross. Now you get to see what happens when someone takes it back.”
He straightens, leaving me rattled, and with that slow, privileged turn of his head, he strides toward my father with the confidence of a man who’s already seized victory.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I hurry after him, refusing to let him claim the upper hand.
I move fast, weaving through the crowd, my heels tapping a frantic beat against the polished floor. I catch up just as he reaches my father and slip in beside them, determined to regain control.
“Dad—” I start, voice taut, but my father’s eyes are already lit with the glow of opportunity.
“Raffael, my boy.” He pulls my nemesis in for a hearty handshake. “Michelo just finished telling me about all the new projects you’re rolling out together. This is exactly the kind of energy CrossPoint needs right now.”
My breath snags in my throat.
I should be relieved Michelo didn’t say anything. Instead, fury builds in my gut at how he hyped my father for a future we won’t be a part of.
I glare at Raffael.
He meets my gaze with the satanic confidence that once melted me. Now it’s a match flicked toward a heart soaked in gasoline.
I try again, forcing my voice to stay level. “Dad?—”
“The Cavallo Group has always had an incredible eye for opportunity,” my father talks over me, his tone full of pride. “In some ways, it’s a shame Isla is no longer in the trenches providing your analysis. I’m sure she’d enjoy being a part of what’s to come.” He chuckles. “Then again, maybe I should put a pin in my retirement plan.”
Hell. No.
I choke down my impatience. “Dad?—”
“It just so happens,” Raffael interrupts, “she came by the office a few days ago to deliver CrossPoint’s findings on Halverson & Grey all on her own.”
“She did?” My father’s gaze darts to me.
Heat creeps up my neck. “There were other matters to discuss. And in this instance, delivering the information solo was more efficient than pulling the team from their work.”
Dad’s expression softens into a patronizing smile that makes my skin crawl. “Don’t worry. You’ll learn to delegate soon enough.”
I open my mouth, about to snap a sharp retort, when a bellowed, “Happy birthday” cuts through the conversation.
My father’s tired grin widens as he turns to greet the newcomer, leaving me alone and cornered by the Cavallo brothers.
Michelo’s friendly facade vanishes, replaced by a scowl. “I’ll meet you at the car,” he mutters to Raffael, then disappears into the crowd.
A charged silence lingers in his wake.
Raffael’s stare locks on me like a vise. He lets the moment stretch, every second a deliberate power play. He’s always beena master at finding cracks in armor. I can almost feel him searching for the perfect place to sink his knife.
“Well,sweetheart, it’s been a pleasure.” His attention lingers on my dress, the cruelty weaving a phantom touch over my hips, all the way to my toes. “Although, you should consider wearing a different color. That shade of green isn’t flattering.”
Mother-fucking asshole.
