Page 123 of A Dangerous Kind of Love

“You want me to eat in here?” I ask, turning to Beatrice, because there is no way she’s serious.

“I know it’s a lot,” she says. “But Mr. Amato insisted this is where you have breakfast.”

I look back at the table.

“Beatrice,” I say, completely serious, “that table could host a wedding party.”

She exhales through her nose.

“I’m not sitting at that thing by myself,” I continue.

She gives me a look. “Mr. Amato—“

“I know,” I cut in. “I know what Michael said, but he’s not the one sitting at the end of that thing like he’s in some period drama.”

She tries not to smile, but I see it.

“Please,” I say, softer now, stepping closer. “Is there somewhere normal I can eat? I don’t care where. The kitchen? A counter? I will literally sit on the floor if I have to.”

She sighs, and I hug her.

“Thank you,” I say, already grinning.

Beatrice takes me on a tour of the house after breakfast, and I spend the entire time trying to act normal instead of internally spiraling. She points out art on the walls, rooms that apparently have names, and shows me the indoor swimming pool. A fucking indoor swimming pool. I actually stop walking for a second, staring at it, before forcing myself to move again.

At the end of one hall, she points to a closed door and tells me it’s Michael’s office. We don’t go in. I don’t ask. Something about it feels off-limits without needing to be explained.

The tour goes on long enough that everything starts to blur together, and by the time we make it back to the foyer, it’s almost time for me to leave to go shopping for a dress. When we get back to the foyer, Sal stands waiting, and next to him is a woman I haven’t seen before. She’s beautiful. Dark hair falls in loose waves over her shoulders, not a strand out of place, and her makeup is subtle but precise. Her dress is simple, but I know it’s expensive by the way it fits her. She stands straight, calm, and completely at ease in this house.

Beatrice brightens the second she sees her.

“Bella!” she says, already stepping forward.

“Zia,” Bella answers with a grin, meeting her halfway.

They kiss each other’s cheeks, and Beatrice pulls back to look her over.

“Mr. Amato keeps you too busy at that office of his.”

“Oh, Zia. He does not,” she says playfully waving Beatrice away. She turns to me. “Hi. You must be Katie.”

She extends her hand, and I take it.

“Yeah. And you’re Bella.”

Her smile deepens, and she lets out a soft laugh. “That would be me.”

I look at myself in the mirror and blink.

“Okay,” I say slowly. “What the fuck.”

The dress is doing too much. Or maybe I am. I don’t even know. The fit was made for me, the fabric catching the light every time I move. And the slit—

I glance down again.

“That should be illegal,” I mutter.

I turn slightly, watching myself from another angle, and let out a laugh.