FRANCESCA
Wolfe picked me up and drove us home.
His hand rested on my thigh the entire way, and that long drive was spent mostly in silence. He asked if I was okay and I said yes, and that was the extent of the conversation. Maybe he knew I needed time to process what was said, or maybe he didn’t want to have this conversation when he couldn’t look at me directly.
By the time we made it home, it was past seven. I didn’t feel like cooking or going out, so Wolfe picked up takeout and brought it back to the house. I was already seated at the dining table on the top floor with a glass of wine beside me when he walked in.
He grabbed the boxes out of the paper bag and set the table before he sat across from me.
I opened my box and saw the pasta with white sauce and jumbo prawns, but I didn’t have much of an appetite.
He didn’t seem to either because he didn’t even open his takeout box. He just sat there with his muscular forearms resting on the table, his fingers interlocked. He didn’t ask me a single question,but his powerful stare lifted my emotions from the surface of my skin.
The silence in the car had given me some time to process it all before I shared it with Wolfe. “He wants me back at the winery.”
“No surprise there,” he said. “I’m sure everything went to shit fast.”
“He didn’t mention that.”
“I knew it would happen. He underestimated your output when he made that threat, and you were smart enough to call his bluff.”
“I didn’t think it was a bluff.” I’d just refused to play the game. He wanted to manipulate me into servitude, and I wouldn’t allow that. Wouldn’t work with someone who threatened to take away things I had been promised if I didn’t comply. Not a healthy relationship at all.
“What did you say?”
“Well, he said more than that—that he was sorry for his behavior and admitted his reaction was irrational.”
“Didn’t expect that one.”
“He accepts my relationship with you but still doesn’t like it.”
“Didn’t expect that one either.”
“Said he wants me back at the winery…but only me.”
He gave a slow nod. “And what did you say?”
“That I need to think about it. But I’m not sure why I said that. Because there’s nothing to think about. I told him he was wrongabout you, but he wouldn’t listen. He had the nerve to tell me I was arrogant and blind for not agreeing with his perspective, but I told him he was the one with tunnel vision.”
He continued to stare at me across the table, his dark eyes not blinking as they regarded me. He was still, just the way my father had been during that meeting.
“I told him he has Leo to run things, but he called him an idiot.”
Wolfe didn’t react to that.
“That pissed me off.”
“He’s right. You’re not only the smarter one, but the calmer one. You make decisions based on rationality rather than emotional impulses.”
“But yet, he doesn’t trust my opinion about you.”
He gave another nod. “Good point.”
“I just don’t appreciate hearing him speak about my brother like that. Maybe Leo could be better at a lot of things, but he’s loyal to this family. He has a good heart, and he means well.”
“He was really upset when he came to the house after Warren’s hit.”
“Yeah, he was.” My voice caught a bit from the emotional embrace we’d shared. “And my dad just stood there and stared you down and didn’t even ask if I was okay.” My voice started to rise. “Didn’t speak to me for fucking days because he was mad at me. You saved my life—and he was fucking mad.” I shook my head. “Don’t come for Leo when you’re a shitty father.”
