Whenever Wolfe and I were at the table together, someone else was always there, so we couldn’t talk or stare at each other too long without making our connection obvious. A guy had comeover to the table to talk to me, but he didn’t have a chance to sit down before Wolfe chased him off with a quick snarl.
Andre was there at the time, but he didn’t seem suspicious, probably assuming Wolfe was following orders my father had given him.
Dad eventually came back to the table and took the seat beside me. “Having a good time?”
I’d rather be in bed with Wolfe where it was warm and quiet instead of on a crowded terrace with music so loud it started to hurt my ears. The dinner was good, but when Wolfe barely touched his, I knew he preferred my cooking to what they served. “Yeah, it’s been nice. I saw them serving cake when I went to the bathroom, so we’ll probably get our pieces soon.”
“I wonder what flavor.”
“Like I care,” I said. “Cake is cake.”
Wolfe chuckled quietly. The sound didn’t carry to us, but I noticed the way he smiled and the way his body shifted when he reacted.
“Where’s your brother?”
“I think he’s cornered some poor girl.”
A quick smile stretched over his lips.
“Are you having a good time?”
“It’s nice to catch up,” he said. “Being around all this makes me excited to host your wedding someday.”
My eyes should remain still, but they immediately flicked to Wolfe across the table.
His eyes were already on me.
I quickly looked away, not letting myself even entertain the idea of standing in a white dress while that beautiful man feasted on my flesh with just his stare. The idea of being his wife was equally thrilling and terrifying. Maybe my father knew that…which was why he’d never suggested Wolfe as a suitor.
“Like someone would be crazy enough to marry into this family,” I teased.
A waitress came over with a large tray in hand, slices of cake on the surface. She started to hand them out, and Wolfe was the only person who rejected the offering. He said he didn’t eat sweets, and in the time that I’d known him, I’d never seen him even eat a piece of chocolate.
“Don.” Andre’s voice was heard over the music because he spoke loudly enough to get his attention. “We’ve got company.”
My eyes immediately shifted to the man who approached our table flanked by two men, his own entourage. He was younger than my father, probably closer to Wolfe’s age, and his dark hair was streaked back with an extra serving of gel. He was thin, really thin, like he preferred to ingest drugs instead of food.
Wolfe immediately left his chair and stepped back slightly, arms crossed over his chest like he wanted to have an aerial view of the situation instead of being compromised in a chair.
I’d never seen this man in my life, but he looked at my father like he knew exactly who he was. Wolfe’s vacated chair was available, so he dropped into it like he had every right, then continued to stare at my father.
Palpable tension washed over the table, and I immediately knew I shouldn’t be there.
The man continued to stare at my father, but then his gaze shifted to me—and stayed there.
Stayed there far longer than it should.
But I never backed down from a confrontation, so I held his stare and didn’t blink, refusing to look away until he looked away first.
A slight grin formed on his lips before he looked at my father again. “I’m sure you’ve heard Icarus is on the way to town.” He relaxed in the chair, arms at his sides, having a distinct presence despite his lack of size and muscle. “That’ll be fun.”
“For you,” Dad said. “I’m not in violation of any of his requests.”
“Really? Because I’m pretty sure Lombardi’s little tomato operation is.”
“We’ve halted production and distribution.”
He cocked his head to the side. “And what about all that leftover product?”
