As much as I understand Kimone’s plight and fear, I understand Stefano’s anger more.Gio—someone I’ve come to genuinely care about—could have died today.
“By the way,” Stefano adds, voice cooling into something far more dangerous, “I already had people waiting to grab her, even before you spoke to her.I knew she was up to something.I just didn’t think it would be this fucking stupid.What happens to her now will beGio’schoice, not yours.”
Fine.Whatever.I have my own battles to fight.
When I don’t argue, his eyes narrow in suspicion, trying to read behind my silence, as if he thinks I’m up to something.
I’m not.
Do I hate casualties of war?Yes.But I’m not Mother Teresa.I’m nobody’s savior.
In wars and power struggles, people like Kimone always end up as collateral damage.
There’s no escaping that.
Stefano eventually pulls his distrustful glare from me and taps the back of Oscar’s headrest.“Black Gold.”
“Black Gold?”I ask.“Can’t you drop me at the villa first?”
He ignores me.
In the silence, my stomach growls.Loudly.Thanks to my overactive metabolism, I have a voracious appetite.Hunger hits hard every one to two hours, and when ignored, it tanks both my mood and brain function.Throws everything off-kilter.
“Can we at least stop somewhere so I can grab something to eat?”I ask.
Again, nothing.It’s like I’m invisible.
He’s clearly still brassed off.But if I don’t get fed soon, we both will be.
My stomach grumbles all the way to Black Gold.
Oscar parks outside the private back entrance of the building and Stefano gets out without a word.
Expecting Oscar to take me back to the villa, I stay put.
But then, Stefano snaps his fingers at me like the asshole he is, holding the door open.
“I’m coming in with you?”I ask.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I say so.”
Ah, for Pete’s sake.I don’t have the energy to fight him right now.
With a reluctant sigh, I slide across the leather seats and climb out of the car.
And then the brute has the nerve to take my hand in his.
Slowly, I look up at him, but he stares straight ahead, jaw set, expression unreadable, as he escorts me into the building.His men nod in deference as we pass, and a few flick their gaze to our joined hands, eyes squinting with interest.
I scowl at Stefano the entire elevator ride to his office.
Only once we’re inside does he release my hand, but his heat lingers on my skin.I resist the urge to raise my palm to my face and soak it up like a pathetic simp.
“Go.Sit,” he commands, gesturing to his massive desk.“Use my computer to type up the meeting minutes, then send it through the encrypted server to everyone who was in attendance.”
