Chapter 20
GINA
The dinner party finally comes to an end. Dante bids everyone goodbye and leads me to the car.
I keep checking out of the corner of my eye to see if Thomas or one of Silvio’s staffers is bringing Biscotti to me.
My ears strain to hear his familiar yip.
But my stomach sinks as Dante opens the back door of the limo. I don’t see Biscotti in the back seat.
What have these monsters done with him!?
“Here you go, Signora Ricci,” says Thomas, handing Biscotti to me a moment later.
Delighted to see him still alive, I kiss his little puppy face. We both made it out of that mansion alive.
A miracle, all things considered.
“Thank you for keeping Biscotti safe,” I tell Thomas, squeezing my puppy in my arms.
“Sure thing, Signora Ricci. I know how much you love that little guy.”
Dante turns to me once the car starts moving. “You made an excellent impression on everyone tonight.”
I breathe a sigh of satisfaction.
“I was pretty scared,” I tell him.
“Why?”
“Silvio’s temper. I saw it firsthand the day I showed up at your office. And Angie says he can really fly off the handle—”
“That girl,” Dante mutters, cutting me off.
“Don’t blame her,” I say. “She’s my only friend. But I’m curious—she’s your second cousin, right? Why does everybody treat her like she’s second class? And the man she’s married to...” I trail off.
Dante is quiet for a minute. I fear I’ve gone too far.
“The first thing you have to understand is that asking questions like this will only lead to problems. You have to accept things the way they are. Besides, it’s Angie’s life, not yours.”
“But it was an arranged marriage, right? What was the reason for it?”
Dante sighs.
“Long story. But the short answer for the way Angie is treated is that her father did something to disgrace the family many years ago.”
“What did he do?”
Dante makes a dismissive motion with his hand. “Don’t concern yourself with that. He’s been dealt with.”
His tone suggests follow-up questions are not welcome.
“But why does Angie have to suffer for her father’s transgression?”
“Gina, like I said, the fewer questions you ask, the happier you’ll be.”
I bite my tongue to stop myself from pressing the issue.
Maybe Dante’s right. It’s none of my business.
And Angie’s taking care of herself fine so far.
It’s also high time I put her advice about reverse-engineering a courtship phase with Dante into practice.
I move close enough to inhale the cedar scent of his cologne. It always turns me on.
“It was so great to see the house you grew up in,” I tell him. “I could imagine you as a toddler, climbing those stairs. Was it lonely, you and your brothers, in that stone house?”
Dante looks at me, seeming surprised.
“Back when my mother was alive,” he begins, his voice losing its edge for a split second. “The house was filled with flowers and warmth. For me and Lorenzo, anyway. Luca never really knew her. She died when he was three. Things were different after that.”
He turns back to his phone.
I cuddle Biscotti, planning my next course of seduction.
On our wedding night, Dante made it clear he would visit my bedroom when he wanted to make love.
Not the other way around.
But all the excitement and intensity this evening has left me feeling frisky.
A thrill runs through me as I remember Dante reaching for his gun when he thought Silvio might punish me.
It was also rather arousing to see the way other women cast admiring eyes on my handsome husband.
Dante’s aura of power and control is clearly a turn on to me and every other woman.
Most of all, the best thing about tonight was the way Silvio inadvertently created awareness and appreciation for my art.
Though Dante and I are still in the getting-to-know-you phase, I’m positive that Dante warmed to me tonight.
He liked the image I presented in my fancy new Antoine-bought designer clothing.
Even though I sensed the other women judging me, whispering about me, in my bones, most would agree I’m a good match for their leader.
That said, I did hear people murmur Mary’s name in combination with mine.
Like they were comparing us.
When will it end?
Not until I bear Dante’s sons, I think to myself.
And unless he visits my room on a regular basis, that’s not going to happen either.
A child is just what we need to make us a family. A real family in the fullest sense of the word.
Dante’s still looking at his phone. I can’t bear it anymore. I reach over to raise the partition that shields us from Thomas’s eyes and ears.
Then I put my hand on Dante’s inner thigh.
He shifts his position, and I move my hand higher.
The outline of his thick cock becomes visible beneath the silk of his designer trousers.
With a glance toward Thomas behind the partition, I move my hand to his dick, enjoying the powerful feeling of his erection against my palm.
I continue to stroke Dante through the silky fabric, hoping he’ll turn away from his screen and kiss me.
Touch me.
His free hand comes down on mine.
Stops it. He doesn’t look up from the phone.
“Hands to yourself, wife.”
Just like that. Quiet and final in tone.
He moves my hand back to my own thigh and goes on scrolling like nothing’s changed.
Dante may not be turned on, but I certainly am.
Heat gathers between my thighs as I remember how I caught him looking at me earlier.
I know I looked good. My dress isn’t especially revealing, but it shows off my small curves to good advantage.
And the black color highlighted my blonde hair in a sea of dark-haired women.
Dante also noticed almost every male eye giving me the once-over.
Well, I think to myself. There’s no time limit on seduction. If not in the limo, the fresh restart begins in the Penthouse.