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“So, don’t cross me, Axel.”
“Don’t speak in riddles, Dante.”
He rubbed his palms together, his eyes lethal in their intensity. “She’s off-limits.”
“Her boyfriend dumped her. All I did was comfort her?—”
“We both know your interest predates this evening. I see more than you realize. I see the way you stare at her, even as I stand directly beside her. If you want our business to continue, then let me make this clear—stay the fuck away from my daughter.”
“She’s a grown woman?—”
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” His voice immediately rose, going from a normal level to a shout. The veins in his temple popped instantly. Sweat broke out like his body was already in a physical fight when he hadn’t moved from the couch.
“Then perhaps we should conclude our business.”
His eyes narrowed, and he remained quiet, absorbing the threat with furious eyes. “You think I won’t kill you?”
“Not when I’ll kill you first.”
He was on his feet instantly, slamming his shoe into the side of the table with enough force to kick it over and shatter the glass.
I was on my feet just as quickly, ready to take a shard and stab it into his neck. “This business partnership has been beneficial to both of us. I’d like to see it continue, but I don’t appreciate being threatened. Her boyfriend just dumped her at a party and walked out of here, but you’re treating me like I’m the one who slighted her.”
He kicked the table again, forcing it aside, a table that was probably five hundred years old. He came closer to me, in my personal space, so close that he could grab my throat and I could grab his. “You think he’ll make it home unscathed?” He smiled, and it was twisted. “No one hurts my little girl and gets away with it.”
My stomach dropped—because I knew she wouldn’t want that. It would only show Ryan that he’d been right to leave the relationship before something worse happened. “I can tell you have a close relationship with your daughter. I can tell you respect her if you’ve selected her as your successor. But I don’t understand why that respect doesn’t extend to her romantic decisions.”
That grin remained. “Because you aren’t good enough for her, Axel.”
It was the first time I’d actually felt insulted since I walked into that room.
“I know everything about the people I do business with—including you. You think your secrets are buried under stone?” He held up his hand in front of me and squeezed his fingers into a fist. “They’re right here in the palm of my hand.” The tendons popped up on his forearms. “Never shit where you eat. Never mix business with pleasure. Once business has started, it can’t be stopped, so stay the fuck away from my daughter if you want to keep your head. Do you understand me?”
I said nothing.
Then he shouted again. “You fucking understand me?—”
“Fine.” Scarlett didn’t want me anyway. Said she would never sleep with people she worked with, obeyed these ridiculous rules her maniacal father had made. “Jesus Christ…”
He straightened then buttoned the front of his jacket, his face now calm, the veins in his temples no longer protruding through the skin. When he spoke, it was as if nothing had happened. “Good talk, Axel.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Enjoy the rest of the party.”
Russell sat across from me in the parlor, both of us smoking cigars and drinking brandy like obnoxious pricks. Smoke rose to the high ceiling and the coffered tiles up above. The windows showed the nightlife outside, the fire blanketing us with warmth.
He had his feet propped on the coffee table.
I didn’t care, even if his boots were covered with mud, but my butler detested it. Every time he entered the room, the skin of his neck tightened because he clenched so hard. But he held his silence and left the room, waiting for us to finish so he could fix the mess left behind.
“So.” Russell pulled the cigar from his mouth and let it hang in his relaxed fingertips, the smoke slowly leaving his mouth once his tongue had absorbed the smoky taste. “How’s it going with Dante?”
I pulled the smoke into my mouth to let it flow for a moment, to let the taste coat my tongue and give me some respite from my rage. I eventually let it out to travel up to the ceiling and out of the room. The furniture smelled like cigars, no matter how many times my butler vacuumed everything. “A fucking psychopath…”
“Dante?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“He seems more refined than the others?—”
“It’s all bullshit. He’s a maniac.”
