Page 86 of Brutal Heir

Truly concerned that she’d barely eaten since yesterday, I watched her closely as we ate in silence. The first course was cleared. Oliver brought out fresh wineglasses and poured me a Roagna Barbaresco Crichet Pajé to go with the veal and Sabrina a Quintarelli Bianco Secco to pair with her fish.

When Chef Conti placed the sea bass in front of her, I didn’t miss the quick side-eye she gave me. My mouth quirked at the corner as I raised my glass in a toast.

After we clinked glasses, I leaned in. “At Édouard’s party, you grimaced when presented with the Rillettes de Veau hors d’oeuvres. That’s how I know you don’t like veal.”

She gave me a shy smile. “Okay, fine. I admit I detest veal and would’ve ordered the sea bass anyway.” She gestured with her wineglass. “But that doesn’t give you the right to order for me.”

“In Italy, a man takes care of his woman. Part of that is knowing what she’d most like to eat.”

She toyed with the stem of her wineglass. “But I’m not your woman,” she whispered.

“I believe I’ve made it clear I want to change that.”

She pierced a piece of charred radicchio with her fork but didn’t raise it to her mouth. “You’ve also offered me a job.”

“And?”

“And…you can’t have it all.”

I winked. “All evidence to the contrary.”

She tilted her head and sighed. “You know what I mean. I don’t know how they do things in Italy, but in America, it’s frowned upon to fuck your way to the top.”

I furrowed my brow. “Really? It sounds like a very American thing to do to me.”

“Very funny. That still doesn’t mean I’m okay with it.”

I waved Oliver away as he approached, ensuring our privacy. “So what you’re saying is I can either have you on my staff or in my bed—but not both?”

She crossed her arms and leaned back, clearly pleased with herself. “That’s right. Time to prove if you truly want me for my stylist skills.”

It was adorable how she thought she had me cornered.

There was no difficulty in my choice.

My primary aim was to get her to Italy. I needed a home territory advantage for the things I had planned for her.

“Does this mean you’re considering the position?”

She paused as she lifted her fork to her lips. “It’s not as if you’ve given me much of a choice. My EU work permit requires I have full-time employment. If I stay, I need a job. And since you’re the reason I don’t have one…”

The corner of my mouth lifted as I pushed my plate aside and leaned my forearms on the table. “Sabrina Badalamenti, are you trying to blackmail me?”

CHAPTER 23

SABRINA

My fork slipped from my fingers, striking the plate with a sharp clang that made me wince.

“It’s not blackmail. It’s a negotiation.”

He leaned back, his eyes never leaving mine as he ran a finger along his lower lip, the gesture lazy but laced with calculation. “A negotiation?”

I lifted my chin, emboldened by the challenge in his tone. “Yes. A negotiation.”

His lips curved, though the amusement didn’t reach his eyes. “Haven’t you ever heard, ‘never go against the family’?”

Despite the tension, a laugh escaped me, sharp and humorless. “Seriously? You’re quoting The Godfather to me?”