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“Because you see things from a mile away, just like I do.” He stepped closer to me and hugged me, his powerful arms locking me inside a steel-bar cage. He held me like that for several seconds, making me feel safe, before he released me. “Dinner is about to be served. I saw that they have gnocchi.”
“Because you asked for gnocchi.”
He smiled. “You got me.”
3
AXEL
After our conversation, she was a beacon of light that floated through the crowd, her gold dress sparkling in the light. The most stunning woman in that room, she had tanned skin, beautiful dark hair that reminded me of the paint job on my car, and lips so full they were made to be kissed. I watched her move about, sipping my drink like I was on the couch at home watching TV.
“Axel.”
I turned to regard Dante, who hadn’t bothered with the champagne and had gone straight for the good stuff. “Any of the pieces interest you?”
Just your daughter. “I don’t care for art.”
“Then you don’t care for life.”
“I think life is more than a piece of art on the wall. It’s about living in the moment, not staring at someone else’s moment.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile. “For someone who doesn’t care for art, that was an eloquent justification.”
I’d gone to private school. Did all the things that rich, snobby kids did. I was more educated than people realized, and I was a lot more intelligent than people realized too. “I think Quinten has had a good time.”
“Good.” He faced the room with me, looking at the crowd of aristocrats who had come out to the party. Wining and dining people to get what Dante wanted wasn’t his cup of tea, but he had to learn.
My eyes wanted to linger on Scarlett, but I forced myself to look elsewhere.
“Axel.”
I turned to regard him head on.
“Come with me.” He left his drink on the table beside us and took the lead, leaving the grand room and moving down the hallway.
I left my drink behind and followed him.
He turned down another hallway then entered a room that looked like a study. Two couches faced each other on a maroon rug. Paintings were on the wall. An impressive hearth stood against the other wall.
The room was full of his men, one in every corner, their hands together at their waists.
I knew a threat when I saw one.
Dante unbuttoned the front of his jacket before he took a seat. “Sit.” His tone was no longer cordial. It was short and impatient, sounding like it came from an entirely different person.
I took the seat directly across from him.
Instead of taking a relaxed position against the back of the couch, he sat forward, arms on his knees, his dark eyes hostile. He stared for several seconds, letting the room slowly fill with his unspoken rage.
I knew what he was pissed off about, but I refused to acknowledge it.
His stare continued.
“You and your men don’t scare me, Dante,” I said calmly. “Speak your mind, and don’t waste my time.”
He raised his head slightly, his eyes flashing in offense. “There’s something you should know about me. I don’t believe in second chances. Not once in my life have I offered a second chance to anyone except my daughter.”
I held his stare.
