Page 16 of The Broker

But as much as I know about Dante, I’ve never been in his house. I have no idea if he’s neat or messy. He told me on Thursday that he doesn’t cook. Does he always eat out, or does he live on canned soup and sandwiches? No clue. He knew enough to bring me Thai food from my favorite restaurant when I was sick—more of that paying attention thing—but I don’t even know what his favorite cuisine is.

And now, I’m going to find out.

Because we’re going to be living together for who-knows-how-long.

I suppress my urge to scream out loud.

Moving in with Dante makes sense; Angelica’s safety comes first. But that doesn’t mean I’m not dreading the next few weeks. Being around Dante isn’t good for me. There’s too much history there, history that can’t be overcome.

To Dante, I will always be a victim. Someone who needs protecting. When he looks at me, he sees the past and nothing else. He doesn’t see anything but that broken girl on the hospital bed.

There’s no point wishing for anything else because it’s not going to happen.

Hating him isn’t a choice. It’s a matter of self-preservation.

Leo lingers to talk to Antonio when the meeting ends, but the rest of us head out. Dante stops me in the hallway. “Valentina.”

There’s a look of wariness in his eyes. I feel a brief moment of wistfulness for the version of Dante that brought me soup and made me tea, and then I banish it. “What?” I demand. “Let me guess. You didn’t expect me to agree to stay with you. You thought I’d protest.”

“Not really. You might take idiotic risks with your own safety, but you’d never endanger your daughter.”

“Hang on a minute. That sounds suspiciously like a compliment. One wrapped in an insult, of course, but still. Am I dreaming?”

His lips tilt into a smile. For an instant, a dimple flashes on his chin, and then we’re back to monotone. “Agnese is watching Angelica. We should sort out the details before we get her.”

“Details?”

“What are we going to tell her about the move? School? The next sleepover with Mabel?”

Oh shit. He’s right. Life would be infinitely easier if Angelica was a toddler, but she’s not. She’s nine, old enough to ask questions.

“I don’t want to worry her,” I fret. “And she can’t miss school, not now. She’s just settling in and making friends. Her dance recital is in a couple of weeks. If I pull her out—”

“Valentina.” He rests a steadying hand on my shoulder. “Take a deep breath.”

He’s right. I’m freaking out. I inhale, count to ten, and then exhale. Dante waits patiently as I get through a couple of breathing cycles, and then he says, “First things first, you won’t have to pull her out of school.”

“I won’t?”

He shakes his head. “Verratti is not stupid enough to attack a school. If he does that, the Carabinieri won’t arrest him. They’ll hunt him down like a dog. I’ll talk to Leo. One of us will walk her to and from school, and we’ll make sure there’s a team keeping an eye on her.” When I open my mouth, he adds, “Unobtrusively. We won’t do anything that makes her stand out.”

It’s stuff like this that makes it difficult to actually hate Dante. He genuinely cares for Angelica. He knows as well as I do that the last year has been rough, and if I pull her from school now, it will jeopardize the friendships she’s slowly making.He gets it.

“And when she asks why we’re moving in with you?”

His forehead furrows. “Apartment renovations?” he suggests. “A water main break caused some damage that you need fixing?”

I give him an exasperated look. “There was no damage when we left our place half an hour ago. She’s not an idiot.”

“True.” He sighs. “This would have been a lot easier if she was still four.”

An unwilling laugh tears out of me. “I was just thinking the same thing.” I chew on my lip. “Okay, the renovation idea could work. What if I was thinking of selling my apartment and getting a bigger place? One that’s big enough for a puppy?”

He nods, an appreciative glimmer in his eyes. “Using the puppy as a distraction. I like it. Do you have a renovation wish list? Email it to me, and I’ll get a team on it so our cover story holds up. As for Mabel, I assume you’ve done a thorough background check on her parents.”

“Of course. They’re cool. But maybe we’ll do the next sleepover at your house, just to be safe. If you can deal with two nine-year-olds wanting to watch Disney princess movies all night long.”

“I’ll manage,” he says dryly. “You do realize you’re going to have to get her a puppy at the end of this?”