Page 91 of Dante

“I don’t. And I can’t bring myself to believe Dante killed her. But the last time we were together, he was extremely forceful. Totally over the top. It doesn’t take too much to set him off. And I wonder if the night she was killed, Mary said or did something that pushed him too far…”

There, I said it.

Angie just looks at me like I was born yesterday.

“First things first. If you want to survive in our world, let sleeping dogs lie. Stop asking so many questions. And this,” she says, lifting the magazine, “is bullshit. Forget the article. Half the things the media says are lies to grab attention and make a profit.”

“Fine, fine. But how can I get Dante’s attention outside the bedroom?”

“Did your mother ever tell you that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?”

“No. Did yours?”

“She said that, but about a different part of a man’s body,” Angie says with a sly grin.

We both break into laughter.

“But I’m serious. How are your cooking skills?”

I shake my head. “Non-existent.”

“Well, watch a cooking demo or buy takeout. Make a romantic dinner for Dante. You’re freshly married. He won’t deny you that.”

“I don’t know…”

“Give it a shot. He’s Italian. I know Italian men.”

“Well, it’s worth a try.”

We move on to discuss other things, but seeing Dante on the magazine cover has reminded me of the twisted way he took me that last night we were together.

He was almost unhinged. Not even almost…

I stop myself, refusing to engage in that kind of thinking any longer.

Angie’s right. I should let sleeping dogs lie.

CHAPTER 35

GINA

“Hey, Biscotti, how are you doing?” Lorenzo greets my dog as he pops into my office now that I’m at the restaurant for the afternoon.

Biscotti’s ears perk up as soon as he hears Lorenzo’s voice. He leaps off the comfy new doggy bed I bought for his lounging pleasure and waddles over to my brother-in-law.

“Biscotti, no!” I say, as he ignores me and parks his paws on Lorenzo’s silk pants.

“Please excuse my shameless dog,” I say as Lorenzo scoops up my puppy and clutches him to his chest.

“It’s okay. Feels good to be admired,” he says, walking around my desk to look at my notepad.

“Is this your new chef design for the mural? I love it.”

“But will Dante?” The words rush out before I can stop myself.

Oh, man. I must sound like a junior high schoolgirl crushing on her teacher and angling for a gold star.

Lorenzo laughs. “Dante will like anything you do, Gina. He’s crazy about you.”