Page 134 of A Dangerous Kind of Love

I hold onto that for a second before stepping into the hall, where I’m no longer Michael. I’m Mr. Amato.

I send the text before we even reach the elevator. By the time we hit the ninth floor, Marco and Luca are already waiting. I shove Matteo into the conference room and follow him in, letting the door slam shut behind us.

“Who the fuck do you think you are,” I say, already closing the distance, “walking up to me like that?”

“Please, Mr. Amato. Have pity—“

I grab him by the collar and drive him straight into the table. The impact knocks the breath out of him, his hands scrambling uselessly against the surface. I don’t give him time to recover. I drag him back up and shove him against the wall, forearm pressing hard across his chest, pinning him there.

“And why would I do that?”

“Sir, your engagement—Rosalia—she’s been inconsolable—“

“That’s not my problem.”

I release him long enough for him to drop, then shove him back down when he tries to get up. I watch him struggle on the floor for a second. He tries to push himself up again, his arm shaking under the effort, and I step forward enough to press my foot into his shoulder and force him back down.

“You don’t come to me,” I say, my voice level and controlled, “in a room full of people who watch everything I do, and start talking to me like we’re equals.”

“Mr. Amato, I—“

I shift my weight, cutting him off.

“No,” I say. “You don’t speak unless I give you permission.”

The room goes quiet except for his shallow breathing. I step back and let him sit up, but I don’t give him the chance to stand. He stays where he is, eyes down, hands braced on the floor.

“You embarrassed yourself tonight,” I continue. “Not me. You.” I tilt my head slightly. “Do you understand the difference?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I doubt that,” I say calmly. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t be in here begging me to clean up a situation you created.”

His head lifts at that.

“Let’s be very clear,” I go on, stepping closer again. “This has nothing to do with me ending that engagement.”

“Sir—“

“This,” I cut in, “has everything to do with you not being able to control your own fucking life.”

His mouth closes.

“You put yourself in debt,” I continue. “You let it get bad enough that your family had to start making decisions to cover for it.” I let that sit for a beat. “That’s how I got involved.”

He looks away.

“Not because I wanted to be,” I add. “Because your mess forced its way into my world.”

“Mr. Amato, I never meant—“

“I don’t care what you meant,” I say, my voice dropping. “I care about what happened.”

I take another step forward, stopping in front of him.

“You don’t get to stand here and act like I took something from you,” I say. “You handed it over.”

I pause, letting it settle.