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within a hundred blocks of her, let alone been able to take her
to dinner, without her father wishing it to be so.
“It’s more than that.” Antonio tossed back the golden liquid
in his glass. He stared her down in the unnerving way she’d
seen him look at his men before, when he expected
unquestionable fealty.
Cassia shifted slightly on the wooden seat. She was
unnerved by the hard glint in his eyes, by how unfeeling and
mean they looked, by the stony set of his jaw. This wasn’t the
man who occasionally showed her warmth and care. This was
a cold businessman who was calculating the odds of his master
&n
bsp; plan working out.
And it would work. She had no doubts, because when it
came to her father, she knew no one more driven or ruthless.
Her stomach churned with sudden anxiety. She hated that look.
That look wasn’t reserved for her. She wasn’t supposed to be
part of a plan, a bargaining tool for something her father
wanted.
“M-more?” She sounded stupid and she knew it.
She hated that more than anything. She didn’t want to
humiliate herself. Her eyes stung with impending tears, but she
didn’t blink. She didn’t look up at the glass ceiling lights
mounted close to the varnished wooden boards above. Her
father had a thing for hardwood and everything from the walls
to the floors and the ceilings were done in different, expensive
types of wood throughout the palatial house. Cassia stared
straight ahead at her father and willed the tears away.
“You know that as a member of this family, you have
certain duties.”
