“You were gone a while,” I say, pulling one arm across my chest.“Did you kill anyone?”
He snorts.“What, you think I just go around shooting people for sport?”
“Well, youdohave a reputation for being a savage.”
“And yet bad reputations are often built on embellished rumors, not facts.”
I switch arms.“So, you’re denying being a bloodthirsty savage?”
“I’m a businessman.A family man.Not a serial killer.”He scratches his jaw.“If someone ends up dead at my hands, it’s because they messed with my business or my family.I give fuck all about anything else.”
Lacing my fingers behind my back, I lean into a chest stretch.“It’s notthatyou kill that fuels the rumors.It’showyou kill.”
His attention lingers on my bust before he snaps his gaze back up to my face and lifts a brow.“And how else would I make it clear that my family and my business are not to be fucked with?”
“So, youarea savage.Just not bloodthirsty.”
He tips his head to the side, weighing it over.“Hmm.I guess I am.”
“No mercy?”
He smiles.Beautifully.“No mercy.”
I smile back.“I respect that.”
His phone buzzes on the desk.Another short, clipped conversation, and he’s gone again.
After another ten minutes of pacing and stretching, I settle back on the sofa to resume work and notice a text from Gio.
Gio:Where are you?Aren’t you supposed to be my special nurse today?
Me:Black Gold.Stefano is forcing me to work from his office.
Gio:Was he beside you when you called earlier?
Me:Yep.Why?
Gio:No worries.See you when you get here.
By the time Stefano returns an hour later, I’ve finished all my tasks and am just wrapping up a call with Lorenzo.
Once the call ends, Stefano steeples his fingers beneath his chin and fixes me with that cold, interrogative stare.
“What now, Master Miserable?”I ask, powering down my laptop.
“Are you going to tell me what you observed at the meeting,” he says, “or do you only reserve your findings for your precious Lorenzo?”
“Precious?”I almost laugh.“I hardly consider being threatened every hour on the hour by a moody growlerprecious.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I don’t even know what you’re asking.”
“I’m not asking,” he replies coolly.“I took you to the meeting because I was told you’re sharp.That you’re good at reading people, figuring out what they want.Was that assessment wrong?”
I tuck my laptop and notebook back into my bag.“Definitely.”
He doesn’t blink.“Do you only do what you’re told when you’re threatened?”
