Page 46 of The Broker
VALENTINA
I’m a distracted mess for the rest of the day. A distracted,hornymess. It’s a good thing the virus I’m building doesn’t require a lot of attention because my mind refuses to stay on task.
Dante offers to pick Angelica up at school. “We’ll pick up pizza on the way,” he says. “That way, you don’t have to make dinner.”
“Thank you.”
True to his word, when the two of them get back home in the afternoon, Dante’s holding three large pizza boxes. “How much pizza are the two of you planning on eating?”
Angelica giggles. “We couldn’t decide what kind to get, so we got everything. Uncle Dante said you like to snack in the middle of the night.”
Uncle Dante is too observant for his own good. It’s a little scary. He puts together a quick caprese salad while I plate the pizza and help Angelica with her homework.
“The virus is almost done,” I tell him in a low voice when she’s bent over her notebook. “Have you decided if I’m going to deploy it?”
“Not yet.” A troubled expression flashes over his face as he halves the bocconcini. “I’m worried about Giorgio. I can’t reach him, and he’s not the disappearing sort.”
I look up, concerned. “Romano Franzoni and Bianca Di Palma are also still missing. You think Revenant took Giorgio, too?” A sudden thought strikes me. “Retaliation for the money we stole from him?”
“I hope not. There shouldn’t be anything to connect Acerbi to us.”
“But it’s a possibility.” I feel sick. Dante said Acerbi had a young daughter. If something’s happened to him because of the money I stole. . . “I shouldn’t have—”
“Hey, hey.” Dante shakes his head. “None of that. I told you to do it. I bear the responsibility, not you.” He glances at my daughter and then at me. His message is clear: Not in front of Angelica. “Salad’s ready. Let’s eat some of this pizza before it gets cold.”
After dinner, Angelica declares that she wants to watchEncanto. “Again?” I ask her. “Didn’t you just watch it with Mabel?”
“Uncle Dante’s never seen it, Mama,” she replies. “We’re going to watch it together.”
“But does Uncle Dantewantto watch it?” I give the Broker a skeptical look. This is the man who stabbed three people in a farmhouse less than two weeks ago. I cannot imagine him enjoying a Disney movie.
“Of course,” he replies with a wink. “Angelica said it’s her favorite movie. I’ll make popcorn, kitten. Valentina, want to join us?”
If I see the two of them together, their dark heads bent over a bowl of popcorn, my ovaries might explode. “No, I have to work.” And then I flee.
Time is weird. During the day, it felt like the hours were crawling by, but then everything speeds up. But before I know it, Angelica is in bed, fast asleep, and it’s time for Sex Lesson 2.
Pretty lingerie is an indulgence, considering the generally sorry state of my love life, but I’m grateful for my weakness tonight. I dress in the pale pink chemise Dante couldn’t take his eyes off when I was packing, put a matching pink robe on over it, grab my laptop, head up to Dante’s bedroom, and knock on his door.
“Come in,” he says, his voice deep.
I open the door, my heart beating very fast. “Hey.” I wet my lips. “I’m here.”
Dante’s sitting on his bed, computer in his lap. He’s shirtless, his taut abs on glorious display. A sheet covers his lower half, so I can’t see if he’s naked under it. Next to him, the cotton rope we used on Saturday is coiled into a neat bundle.
He sees me, and heat flares in his eyes. He looks like he’s imagining what’s underneath the robe. He doesn’t have to try too hard; I’m going to get rid of it soon enough. As soon as I can stop my heart from racing.
“You look like I’m going to eat you,” he observes. He winks at me, a comical leer on his face, and pats the mattress next to him. “Come into my parlor said the spider to the fly. . .”
His leer makes me laugh. “You’re being ridiculous.” And I’m grateful because it’s dampened some of the tension I’m feeling. Some, but not all. My stomach is still doing cartwheels, and my pulse is a jackhammer. I enter the room, shutting the door behind me. “Lock it,” Dante reminds me. “Just in case.”
“Right.” I turn the key in the door’s lock and walk up to him. “You have your laptop out. Already looking at porn?”
“Just work.” He shuts the computer and sets it on the floor. A wry smile crosses his face. “I don’t need to look at porn when you’re here, Valentina. My imagination is already working overtime.”
A thrill goes through me. “Are you imagining me naked?”
“Naked,” he says. “Clothed. Half-dressed. I imagine you in the shower, water cascading down your body. In bed, your hair damp, your skin smelling like the jasmine lotion you love, your vibrator tucked between your legs.” His cock hardens noticeably. “I imagine you masturbating while I watch, then handing me a remote control and putting me in charge of your orgasms. . .” His lips twist. “When it comes to you, my brain is very creative.”