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“Except for Terence,” I mutter, thinking about the way Dante’s angry chocolate eyes stared me down like I was an annoying bug he was desperate to squish. “That one has a chip on his shoulder.”
“Who’s Terence?” he asks.
I’m not an idiot. I don’t want to end up with a bullet in my skull because someone tattled to the angry bird himself about his pet name. Especially since we’ve already established my brain is prime real estate. “No one important. Angelo who?”
He’s quiet for a beat, assessing me before he speaks. “Santoro.”
My heart speeds up. I’ve hit the nail on the head in my assumptions. Now if I could only figure out how to make my escape. I’m in a narrow corridor, without places to hide. If I start running, he’ll definitely catch me, especially since I’m not wearing any shoes. Or actual clothes. The only course of action I can see is to get him to trust me.
“Any relation to one Dante Santoro, perchance?” Maybe if I get him to lower his guard, he’ll slip up.
“He’s my brother.”
“My condolences.”
He laughs. “That’s new.”
“What is?”
“I’m not used to people reacting this way to my surname.”
“How else would I react? It’s not your fault you’re related to the angriest and rudest man I’ve ever met.”
He chuckles, shaking his head, before guiding me down the corridor. “Dante really did a number on you, didn’t he? If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure you get under his skin.”
This time, I snort. “Not sure if that’s a good thing.”
“Yeah. I guess it’s probably not,” Angelo says quietly.
“Angelo?” I stop, turning to face him. “Where are you taking me?”
“To your dressing room, so you can get changed.”
“And after that?”
He smiles. “You’re a clever one, aren’t you? After that, Dante wants to speak with you.”
Dante.
Goosebumps rise on my arms as I try to fit the name and the soft way Angelo said it with the angry man I’ve met. Knowing that he is notjustDante gives me hope.Maybe he’ll see reason. Maybe this time, he’ll be understanding.
And in the quiet staff room, with Angelo standing outside my door, as I change into my clothes and pull the golden leaves out of my hair, I try to stay positive.
The feeling gets crushed the moment I walk into Dante’s office and am met by the man himself.
“Thank you, Angelo.” Dante’s voice is devoid of any emotion as he speaks.
Angelo, the traitor that he is, backs out of the room, closing the door behind him.
You can cut the tension with a knife—it’s so thick. My body wants to cower under Dante’s heavy stare as silence fills the room, but I stand my ground, waiting for him to speak first. Sun Tzu taught me that silence is a source of great strength. I’ve done nothing wrong. Except using a fake name to gain employment, that is. But if Dante Santoro thinks he can intimidate me that easily, he’s got another think coming. He may believe he knows me. Or how to deal with me. But he’s wrong.
Apart from cheap thrills, I also love playing games. And this is gearing up to be a delicious one. By trying to make me uncomfortable, he has inadvertently kicked my competitive side into gear. The fear of losing a job and not having any means to start the search about my past becomes all but a distant memory as recklessness drives me to show him just what I’m made of.
My eyes trained on Dante’s, I stay silent, feet planted on the ground and my back straight. I take all the rage he’s shooting my way. Absorb all the anger, letting it flow through me and disperse into thin air around me. And as the annoyance on his face grows with every second I don’t break, I glow with determination.If your enemy is quick to anger, seek to irritate him,Sun Tzu said. And I can’t think ofanything that will irritate Dante Santoro more than standing my ground. After all, he said himself that ever since I arrived in Blackwood, he’s been in hell.
“Why are you still here, Miss Jones?” he grits through his teeth and I want to dance in the spot with glee at winning this small battle between us.
“I was toldyouwanted to speak with me,” I reply innocently.
