Page 17 of The Broker
I smile at him. “I’d probably have done it anyway.” What do you know? Two truces in a week. What are the odds of that? “Okay, can you keep an eye on Angelica while I go pack my equipment? The rest of my stuff can wait, but I need my computers.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he demands. “Did you not hear anything Antonio just said? No. You’re not going anywhere without me.”
And there goes that moment of peace, burst into nothing like a soap bubble. “Dante, you’re being ridiculous. I’m perfectly capable of going to my apartment by myself. I’m really close to cracking that encryption. This is not a good time to stop.”
“I don’t care,” he snaps. “I’m not letting you out of my sight until this thing blows over.”
His phone chooses that moment to ring. He picks it up. “You’re late,” he snarls. The person on the other end says something, and Dante looks pissed. “Fine,” he growls. “I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”
He hangs up and looks at me. “I’ll accompany you back to your apartment so you can pack up your stuff and drop you and Angelica off at my place, but then I have to go out,” he says. “No leaving my house until I get back. Got it?”
I swear to God—he drives meinsane.“You want me to stay holed up in your house like a captive? Like some kind of prisoner?”
“Call it whatever you want,” he replies. “But yes.”
He issucha jerk. Irritation fills me, tinged with more than a little disappointment. For an instant, I thought he saw me as someone capable, but I was fooling myself.
It doesn’t matter. Everything is electronic now, every business record, every financial transaction. Hacking is the new superpower, and I’m good at what I do. I don’t need him to see me as an equal—I know my worth.
I just have to survive living with the infuriating, overprotective, hot-as-hell Dante Colonna.
But if his high-handedness is a preview of what the next few weeks have to offer, somebody better find me an alibi. One more order from Dante—just one more—and I’m going to have to kill him.
11
DANTE
Angelica is perched on a stool in Antonio’s kitchen, flour smeared on her cheeks and chin, beating some batter with a hand mixer under Agnese’s careful supervision.
Valentina’s lips curve into a soft smile as she takes in the scene. “She’s growing so quickly,” she murmurs, lifting her phone to take a photo. “Soon, she’ll be a sullen teenager who doesn’t want to talk to her mother.”
I snort in amusement. “What a glass-half-empty person you are. Angelica has never had a sullen day in her life. I can’t see her personality changing so dramatically.”
“Mine did,” Valentina replies. She stares at her daughter through the doorway before taking a deep breath and straightening her shoulders. “Might as well get this over with.” She enters the room. “Hey, kiddo. What are you doing?”
“Agnese is showing me how to make the batter,” Angelica replies.
“Looks like you had a little flour mishap.” Valentina fishes a tissue out of her pocket and wipes her daughter’s cheeks. The maternal gesture tugs at something in my heart. “I have a surprise for you.”
Angelica’s eyes flash to me and then to her mother. “What kind of surprise?”
“You know how you’ve been wanting a puppy?”
“Yeah. . .” Her forehead furrows. “But we don’t have enough room for a dog.”
“What if we sold our apartment and moved into a bigger place?”
My niece gives her mother a sharp look. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Dante has kindly offered to have us stay with him until we find a new place.”
I grimace. Valentina is a terrible liar. Truly awful. I’m waiting for Angelica to ask a thousand follow-up questions, but to my surprise, she doesn’t say anything. She looks at me again and then at her mother. “We’re going to stay at Uncle Dante’s?”
“Yes.” Valentina gives me a confused look—I’m not the only one surprised by Angelica’s quick acceptance—and I shrug. “For the next month, probably.”
“Okay.” Angelica returns her attention to the bowl. “I have to finish making this cake.”
Valentina’s brow furrows. “And I have to pack our stuff. Do you want to stay here with Agnese while I do that?”