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“I’d love to, but…”
“No buts,” Dante finishes for me. “You said the other night, you’d let me take you out for dinner.”
“That’s not quite what I said,” I remind him. “I said I’d prefer it over your twin.”
Everyone snorts a laugh, including Marco, who’s usually the quietest out of them.
He goes back to his computer screen, shaking his head, as the others continue to stand around.
“Ah, that’s right, I knew there was a dig at Fynn in there somewhere.”
“What’s he done now?” Angelo says, sounding weary. He shoots Fynn a glance, but Fynn stays quiet.
When I shift my gaze to him, he’s staring at me. His eyes blazing.
He hasn’t calmed down.
Well, too bad. Neither have I. And if he thinks he’s going to win this battle, he didn’t prepare for the war. He owes me an apology, and I’m going to take my sweet time deciding if it’s genuine enough for me to forgive him.
Those usually kind, deep blue eyes look icy right now. Like they could cut glass. But I stand my ground.
“I haven’t done anything,” Fynn replies, his eyes never leaving mine. He doesn’t add anything more, leaving hostility in the air as I bite my tongue.
I narrow my gaze, still looking at Fynn, then I address Dante. “Time to get you all cleaned up. I need to check the dressing.”
Dante nods. “Come into my office.”
“Don’t give her any shit,” Angelo warns, a smirk on his lips as I wave goodbye.
Completely ignoring Fynn.
“I never do,” he calls over his shoulder.
When we get to Dante’s office, just next door, I glance around.
This place puts ritzy on a whole new level.
The Medicis do nothing by halves, and the casino is no exception. Its opulence is evident before you even set foot in the door.
It’s only been open for around six months, and despite a few earlier hiccups after opening night, the place is the talk of the town. It’s been featured in more than one article, as has Angelo and his empire high on a pedestal that only others could dream of achieving.
When we’re safely inside, the door still open, Dante gestures over to the plush couch.
“Will that be okay?”
I nod. “Perfect.” I carry my medical bag over to the couch and rest it on the small coffee table.
“So, what’s really going on with you and Fynn? You could cut the hostility with a knife.”
I shrug. “You know Fynn, he gets in a mood when he can’t get his own way or is challenged by something. He pouts like a little kid who’s just been told no more candy.”
Except the candy this time is me and my non-existent baby, which just proves how ridiculous this all is.
Dante snorts a laugh and starts to unbutton his shirt. “That is very true. I forget how well you know him.”
Hmm. Clearly not well enough if he thinks he can glare at me from across the room, and what’s worse, now his brothers have all noticed. This is not what I need.
I want to change the subject, so I ask, “How are you?”
