Page 70 of The Price of Power

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Page 70 of The Price of Power

“But if you don’t do what’s necessary to get the D’Angelos their money, something bad will happen, Theo.”

My heart ached just saying the words out loud.

“You know what you have to do,” I told him. “And while I can’t make you do it, I keep praying you will. Because I don’t want to lose you, Theo.”

And I didn’t want to lose Gabriel either.

Now that I’d finally found this faint sliver of happiness, the only thing I wanted was a little peace so I could enjoy it.

“So, this is the last time I’m going to call you,” I said, realizing that this time I actually meant it. “I’m not going to hound you anymore. Instead, I’m going to believe that just this once, you’ll dust off your selfishness and clean up your own mess.”

I closed my eyes in the darkness and leaned my head back against the chair.

“I’m going to trust you to do what’s right.”

Letting out a long breath, I ended the call. After sliding the phone back in the drawer, I got up and walked out of the office.

I wish I could say I was surprised when I saw Gabriel standing just outside, but I wasn’t. Not really. After living in his house and being by his side for so long, I’d grown used to how he always seemed to be right there.

The only truly surprising thing was that he didn’t seem upset.

In fact, the look in his fathomless eyes was strangely understanding as he towered over me.

“Are you done?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Do you feel better?”

“A little,” I answered.

“Good,” he said before wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “Then maybe now you can finally fall asleep.”

That was the hope.

“How do you do it?” I asked Mrs. Tarolli the next morning after Gabriel and Matteo had left for the day.

I watched her out of the corner of my eye as she turned toward me. I didn’t look up. I didn’t want to face her, afraid that if I did, I wouldn’t be able to ask the questions that had been burning in my head since the moment Gabriel had silently led me back to bed last night.

“The cornetti?” she asked.

It was a reasonable question, seeing as that’s where my gaze had settled—on the plate of perfectly rolled pastries she’d put out for breakfast. She must have redone all the ones I’d bungled.

“It’s just practice, dear,” she assured me. “Give it time, and one day, yours will be as good as mine, I promise.”

I only wished I was talking about something so simple.

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m talking about Gabriel and his brothers. How do you reconcile working with this family and being a good, decent human being?”

“Oh…that,” the housekeeper said, wiping the flour off her hands with her apron. Letting out a long sigh, she pulled out the stool across the kitchen island from me, and for the first time since I’d first met her, I watched her take a seat. “I’ve been wondering when this conversation was going to happen.”

I risked peeling my eyes away from the cornetti to meet her caring gray gaze. “You have?”

“Of course,” she said with a knowing nod. “I’m no fool, you know. I’ve worked in this house for over forty years now. I’ve seen and heard things that would make the devil blush.”

I didn’t doubt that for a second.

“So, how do you compartmentalize it?” I asked.




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