Chapter 7
DANI
I barely know this man, yet I can already feel the simmering anger lying beneath Dexter’s cold, hard exterior as we walk out of his father’s penthouse.
He’s been tasked with driving me back to my hotel, and it’s clear he hates every second of it. I don’t like that his father coerced him into doing this. I didn’t need him to do that.
“I could have taken a taxi,” I say as Dexter comes to a stop next to a black Aston Martin. It’s sleek, powerful, and exudes the kind of wealth that doesn’t need to prove itself.
“You heard my father.” His voice is tight. “He seems to think you’re some kind of precious cargo or something.”
“I’m sorry for putting you to any trouble.”
“It’s too late for that.”
I’m too shocked to say anything. He’s not even pretending to hide his dislike for me. Jaw set, silence stretching thick between us. With his eyes fixed on the road, I have the perfect opportunity to examine him closely. His hair dark brown, like his eyes, is short at the sides, and slightly longer on top, with a few curls falling effortlessly over his forehead. From the side, his profile is sharp and well defined. His jaw looks like it’s been carved from marble. Or maybe it’s jut set extra hard because he’s pissed about having to drive me to my hotel.
His large hands grip the steering wheel like he’s mad about something and fighting to contain himself. Broad-shouldered, but not bulky, Dexter is all lean strength, the kind that doesn’t need to prove itself. He’s so much more appealing than Oscar Ramos ever was.
Anger oozes out of his every pore. “I don’t understand why you’re so angry with me.”
At a red light, he finally looks at me, his gaze impassive. “What do you want me to do? Hug you? Tell you how lovely it is to see you? Ask if you’d like to go sightseeing tomorrow?” His voice reeks of sarcasm. “I don’t know you, Daniela. All I know is that our father sprung you on us.”
“I sense hostility between you and your father.”
He lets out a sharp laugh as the light turns green. He revs the engine harder than necessary. “You think?”
“A little.”
“How observant of you.”
He laughs. Even though those dark, hard eyes don’t turn to me often, I can feel his simmering fury in my bones. This man doesn’t like me, and I misunderstood him earlier, back in the luxurious penthouse, where the music and laughter softened my interaction with Dexter. Maybe I deluded myself into thinking he was someone he isn’t, because, compared to his brothers, most of whom couldn’t stop gaping at me, he seemed like the best option.
Option.
I’m talking about my future husband as an option. Not a soulmate. Not a friend and lover. But an option.
At least this option would be better than Ramos.
“What do you think of my father?” Dexter asks, glancing at me briefly before his eyes snap to the road again.
I hesitate. “He seems like a nice man.”
He snorts with derision. “Nice? You don’t know the first thing about him. I would caution you to be wary.”
I figured out as much. Still, I don’t understand why Dexter is still so openly hostile toward me after warming up towards the end. Maybe he feels tricked into meeting me, and this mood of his is to do with the way their father presented me. I understand their resentment at being blindsided, because that’s not how a father should be.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I ask, the question slips out before I can stop myself.
He frowns. “What?”
“I’m sorry. That was too personal.”
“Then don’t ask.” His eyes stay on the road, though he glances at me every now and then, his irritation evident. “Answer me this,” he says. “Is this your doing?”
I shift uncomfortably. “What do you mean?”
“You coming here, and being presented to us tonight. Don’t you feel like you’re in a meat market?”
“I’m a businesswoman, first and foremost,” I say defensively, even though that’s a little white lie. I’m a daughter, first and foremost. And I want my father to be well again. I want Papai to stop lying in bed, worrying over the company, over our future.
But I don’t say any of this to Dexter. I came here to make an alliance, but the Knights don’t know that. Paul Knight was careful about how to dress this up, and I’m not sure what I’m allowed to give away to his sons.
“I don’t like being tricked,” Dexter says.
“I understand,” I say softly. “I would hate that too.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I ask, again, deeply curious, because he evaded answering the first time I asked. If he does, then he’s out of the running.
“Why are you asking me such a personal question?” he asks, his eyes still on the road.
“I was curious.” I feel like a fool. I feel like I’m giving the game away. But I’m not here for long, and I need to know which of the Knights might be my best choice. If none of them are, I need to go home, and find another way.
“My father is a controlling man,” Dexter says, after a while. “You should be wary of him. I don’t know what he’s told you.”
“He hasn’t told me anything.”
“Then why are you here?”
“To do business.”
“What sort of business?”
Before I can even think of how to answer, my cell phone rings, and it’s my mom. I glance at Dexter, see the hard line of his lips and decide that I don’t want to talk to my m?e with this sullen angry man next to me.
The phone keeps ringing. M?e is obviously desperate to find out how this evening went. It’s past midnight back home, and I feel guilty that my parents have been up waiting for my feedback.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” Dexter turns to me. Something in his eyes softens just then. “Answer your call, Daniela. It might be urgent.”
So, I do. I pick up. “Oi, M?e… já sabia que você ia me ligar.”
Hi, Mom. I knew you’d call me.
“Meu anjo, estou preocupada. Você está bem?”
My angel, I’m worried. Are you okay?
My heart bursts with relief and love at the sound of my mother’s voice, and to hear her words. I’m lucky that I have this type of relationship with my parents. Seeing Paul Knight with his boys, I feel incredibly blessed. I also feel homesick, and I briefly consider getting the next flight back.
“I’m okay,” I tell her, speaking in my mother tongue, which is helpful, because Dexter won’t understand.
“Was it good? What were the boys like?” she asks eagerly.
“Oh, you know … I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
“Tell me now! We’ve been waiting to hear from you, my love. Your Papai also wants to know.”
She hands the phone over, and my stomach clenches when I hear my father’s soft voice. “How was it, Daniela? Are they nice? Did you find someone you liked?”
“Papai.” I would give anything to be there, with him, holding his hand, reassuring him, telling him that everything is going to be fine. Truth is, I’m not so sure anymore.
I switch the phone to my other ear, keeping it away from Dexter, just in case. “I’m good, Papai, don’t worry about me. How are you?”
“I’m good, my dear. I was praying tonight would go well.”
“It went fine.” I keep my voice neutral. I don’t want him worrying. “We’ll talk tomorrow. It’s late. You shouldn’t have stayed up all this time for me.” Guilt tugs at me. S?o Paulo is two hours ahead of New York and it’s midnight here.
My father can sense I don’t want to speak. He even asks if one of the Knights is with me. I explain that one of them is driving me back to my hotel. He sounds overjoyed and says that’s good news.
If only my parents could see Dexter’s face. I can’t tell them how he behaved. No matter how this ends, or what further hostility I must endure, I will spare them that. I hang up.
“Your parents?” Dexter asks.
“Yes.”
“You seemed worried.”
My insides are in freefall. “Do you speak Portuguese?”
“Is that what you speak?”
“Yes.”
He looks surprised. “Not Brazilian?”
“No.”
“Is everything okay?” he asks, displaying a rare side of concern.
I falter. “Just... old age.”
“How old are you?” he cries, incredulously. His tone makes me giggle.
“I’m twenty-four.”
“Seven-year age gap,” he mutters.
“Huh?”
“The age gap between you and me.” It surprises me that he’s worked this out. “How old are they ?” he continues.
“My parents? They’re in their late sixties.”
“Similar ages, then. My father’s sixty-five.”
I force a small smile, but my mind is racing. My father is placing all his hopes on me. I can’t go back without securing an alliance. Also, Dexter was working out the age gap between us. He’s older, but not Ramos-years older.
“You sounded worried about them. Are you?” Dexter prods again. I can’t tell if he’s genuinely concerned or if he’s trying to find out more about my reason for being here.
“I’m close to my parents. They miss me and I miss them very much.”
“But you’ve only been here a few days.”
“I still miss them. It’s not the number of days so much as it is the distance.”
“When did you get here?”
His interrogation puts me on guard. “Why so many questions when you didn’t even answer mine.”
“Which one?”
“About whether you had a girlfriend.”
“I’m not sure you’d like to hear the answer.”
That’s a warning. My mind churns through the possible answers he could give me.
“I don’t currently have a girlfriend,” he says, after a while. But even though he answered, I worry if he’s telling the truth or convoluting it like his father would. These people are strangers to me. I was starting to think that Dexter would be a good choice of partner, but I’m not sure anymore.
I decide not to push him anymore, because I don’t want him asking more personal questions of me, so we sit in silence for the rest of the journey. I’m cautious about giving too much away, and I’m also curious as to why his father hasn’t been upfront with him. I have doubts about marrying into this family. Everything looks great on the outside, but just a short few hours have exposed so much.
At least with Oscar Ramos, I know what I’m getting into.
We soon pull up in front of my hotel. Dexter turns to me. “You have arrived at your destination,” he says in a robotic voice, his face expressionless.
“Thank you. I’m sorry for taking up too much of your time.”
He nods, looking relieved. “Okay.”
Okay? “Good night, Dexter,” I say, in the breeziest voice I can muster as I start to get out of his car.
“Good night.”
He doesn’t look at me again and stares straight ahead as I step out. My sequined dress shimmers under the moonlight, and I pray I don’t trip as I walk into the hotel. I’m sure I can feel his eyes on me.
It’s only when I get into the elevator that I sigh with relief, and when I get inside my hotel room, I kick off my high heels and I quickly get out of the dress. The sequins have been digging into my skin all night, and I’m itching to be rid of them.
I collapse onto the bed, exhaling heavily, glad to be back in the privacy of the hotel room, away from lecherous eyes and hostile faces. But I feel stuck. Tonight was supposed to give me a solution. A way out of marrying Oscar Ramos, but I don’t think I am any better off. I don’t even think most of the Knights like me.
What do I do now?
A knock at the door makes me bolt upright. I grab my dress and try to quickly get into it but another impatient knock follows quickly.
“Who is it?” I tread slowly towards the door, holding the dress to me.
“Dexter.”
I spring back in shock. “Dexter?”
“The guy who just gave you a lift here.”
“I know who you are.”
“You forgot your cell phone.”
My cell phone. I quickly open the door, worried that Paul Knight might have called or messaged, and Dexter might have seen it.
I frown at him. “How did you get my number?”
“Twenty bucks can get you a lot of information around here.” His gaze starts to lower from my face but as soon as he sees that I’m holding the dress, and not wearing it, his gaze quickly bounces back to my face. “You just open the door to unexpected guests?”
“You told me it was you. You sounded like you,” I protest, my fingers tightening around the fabric I’m holding to my chest like a shield.
“You have to be careful. A woman like you … here… alone. Desperate men could try all sorts of tricks.”
I narrow my eyes. “Are you confessing to something, Dexter?”
“I’m not desperate, sweetheart. Just warning you to be vigilant.” He shakes his head. “And opening the door not wearing the dress …”
“I took it off because the sequins dig in … and it’s difficult to put back on quickly …” My pulse picks up and my voice trails off. “Thank you for this.” I grab the phone from him.
Mischief dances in his eyes, while his fingers tap along the door jamb. “You’re not going to ask me in for coffee?” That lazy smirk curls at the corner of his mouth.
I open my mouth, not even sure what I’m going to say to that.
“Just messing with you.” He backs away, and I’m about to close the door, when I hear his voice. “Lock the door, and put the chain on.”
“Why?” I frown, opening the door wider again. Surprised that he’s concerned. That he might care.
“I was able to find you, and all I had to do was charm the hotel receptionist. You can’t be too careful.”
“Yes, sir.”
I hear him chuckle, and close the door, only to be distracted by a notification ping from my phone. I startle when I see a text from Paul Knight. Just as I’m about to read it, I hear Dexter again. “I’m not leaving until I hear you deadbolt the door. And slide the chain across,” he says from the other side.
I find myself smiling. There’s a good man underneath all that outward hostility. Even though he’s not interested in me, Dexter cares enough to keep a lone woman safe. And that tells me a lot about his character.
I bolt the door and do the chain, then hear a “Good girl.”
Then silence. It’s in that silence that I feel it. The pull. Not just to his body, but to the man behind the razor sharp edges, and the barbed wire comments. The one who knew I was alone and warned me, even if he wrapped his words in a thick layer of sarcasm.
I look at my phone again. Luckily I have a lock on there, so Dexter wouldn’t have seen any of my messages. I read Paul’s text.
Hope you had a good evening. Did any of my sons catch your attention?
I think about it for all of two seconds. Then text back:
Dexter
His reply is immediate:
Good choice
We’ll talk tomorrow
I put my phone down and wonder what I’ve done. What death trap am I walking into?
But, considering it all carefully, Dexter is the only real option. Jett is taken. Matteo was flirting with the servers. Enzo and Zach seemed too young, too eager. Rio? He feels territorial and possessive. In awe of me. Mesmerized. A little too much. He’s the type of man who would consume me whole.
Dexter doesn’t come across like that. He’s different. He’s prickly and indifferent, and yet he was the only one who spoke to me and asked me questions. And he wanted answers.
I’m not thinking about marriage. I’m thinking about an alliance. This would just be an arranged marriage on paper. A year-long contract.
Both parties get something out of this deal and at the end, we both walk away with something.
A year. That’s all it must be.
But something tells me it won’t be as simple as that.