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Yep, it’s official, this woman annoys me. I take another glass from the cupboard and pour her some wine.
“Thanks.” She fakes a smile as she looks me up and down.
“What are you doing here?”
She frowns. “I’m here to see Enrico, I already told you.”
“He was in his office in Milan all day.”
“This is of a personal matter.” She sips her wine.
“Anything I can help you with?” I smile sweetly.
Her eyes hold mine. “No.” She fakes a smile. “I need to speak to him… alone.”
Our eyes are locked.
Game on, mole. You may be gorgeous, sexy, a Madame, and Italian…
But he loves me, so put that in your pipe and smoke it.
I pick up the knife and go back to chopping the chicken.
“You cook?” she asks, amused.
“Don’t you?”
“No.” She lifts the wine glass to her lips. “And I most definitely wouldn’t if I had the staff that this house carries.”
I smirk.
“What’s that look for?” she asks.
“You think you’re above cooking?”
She flicks her hair behind her shoulders and gives a conceited shrug.
“That’s funny, because in your line of work I would have imagined that you’d be used to getting your hands dirty.” I smile sweetly.
Shit, did I say that out loud?
“What do you know about my line of work?” she fires back.
“Only what Enrico has told me. That you’re a Madame, and you work for him.”
She smiles. “And what else did Rico tell you about me?”
My hackles rise at her use of Rico as his name. “Everything,” I lie.
She lifts her chin in defiance. “So, he told you about the two of us?” She sips her wine and smiles sarcastically.
I get a vision of myself diving over the counter and strangling this whorebag.
Our eyes are locked.
“He did, actually,” I lie.
I chop the chicken with force, imagining it’s her head on the chopping block.
