Dante smirks. I assume he’s about to pull rank. “Then I guess I came at the perfect time.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
Just then, the doors fly open as a parade of caterers enter pushing carts loaded with serving dishes and pitchers of water and a few bottles of Bellanti wine.
“It means I ordered a fine meal for the entire staff, which means you’ll be taking your dinner with me now.”
My mouth falls open at his latest bid to manipulate me, but I don’t get a chance to say anything as Jessica clips over. “We have a problem, Dante. Did you realize the inventory hasn’t been done yet, and your wife just authorized abonusfor employees to work overtime and finish it?”
“It’ll get done.” His expression is stony. “And you’ll stay late to oversee it.”
Her cheeks flush. “I’m not staying late just because—”
“Excuse us,” Dante says acidly. “Oh, and make sure you email the inventory sheets over as soon as you’re done with them.”
Jessica says nothing, just watches with a jealous death-glare as Dante tightens his possessive grip on me and guides me out the door.
Back in the main house, we get to the dining room and find Armani and Marco working their way through the bread and wine. Dinner is brought out by the kitchen staff nearly the moment Dante and I are seated. The men start up a conversation, but I sit quietly and just listen. I don’t want to get involved. It seems like every time I open my mouth around Dante, we end up in an argument, and I’m not up for it. Easier to play the obedient wife and just not participate.
Marco watches me over his wineglass, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.
“I think a quiet Francesca is a dangerous Francesca. What’s on your mind?”
I laugh. “Me? Dangerous? I’m not sure what Dante has been telling you, but I can guarantee it’s not true.”
He laughs and turns back to his food, but I guess it’s enough to break the ice with me because Armani jumps in right after and says, “I bet she’s thinking about how beautiful the showroom is now that she’s brilliantly rearranged it. Maybe plotting what to do next.”
Marco raises his glass. “Please, improve Dante next. His ego is intolerable lately.”
I look between the brothers. “I’m not ready for a project of that size. I think I’ll tackle something a little easier first.”
The men—besides Dante, of course—laugh and toast our little banter.
Marco sits back in his chair. “I have to admit, it is nice to have a pretty woman at the dinner table again.”
Armani and Dante shoot him a look. Ah, now here’s an opening I want in on.
I take a sip of wine and look directly at Marco. “Again?” I ask innocently.
There’s a pause as the brothers exchange a glance. Armani frowns at his youngest brother before putting on a tolerant smile, as if he’s going to placate me despite really not wanting to.
“Our mother and sister were lost at sea when we were young.”
My hand flies to cover my mouth. I wasn’t expecting this kind of answer at all. “I’m so sorry, I had no—”
Armani waves away my condolences. “It was a long time ago. We’ve worked through it, though our father never did. It…changed him. He became—”
Dante sets his fork down hard on his plate. “My wife doesn’t need to know the family sob story.” He reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out his cell. It’s vibrating gently.
“Like it or not, I’m part of the Bellanti family now,” I say. I lean forward in my chair to address Armani quietly. “Really, I’d love to know as much about the family history as I can.”
Armani seems to soften. He looks like he’s about to speak again when Marco’s cell lets out a muffled ping next to his plate. Marco grabs it up, earning him a scowl from Armani, but the frown freezes on his face as his own phone starts vibrating.
“Excuse me,” Armani murmurs, turning away to look at his screen.
“What the fuck?” Dante pushes out of his chair, nearly toppling it. My heart sinks as the other men’s expressions go tight.
Just then, my phone goes off too. I don’t hesitate to pull it out of my pocket immediately and see what it is, but once I read the text from Greg, I wish I hadn’t.
