C117 Would It Work?

Dante Cazador’s day had been a relentless storm of fires to extinguish and frustrations to endure. His jaw clenched as he thought about the chaos Romano was creating.

The old man was tearing through Acadia like a wounded bear, desperate to find his son’s killer.

In the meantime, he was leaving destruction and questions in his wake.

He was ruffling feathers that Dante had to be soothing.

Dante knew he should listen to what Mikhail had said and rein the man in, but he just wanted to cut the man some slack.

That might have to end soon.

Dante’s mind churned with plans to contain the situation.

But no strategy could quiet the simmering distraction Annabelle had become.

No matter how much he tried to focus on business, thoughts of her invaded every corner of his mind.

The memory of her body was a torment he couldn’t escape.

Hell, she only had to breathe in the same room, and he was ready to crumble.

It was maddening.

Sitting in his office, surrounded by the dark mahogany furniture and the muted glow of city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Dante dreaded going home.

How was he supposed to face her without losing his composure?

A sharp knock at the door snapped him from his thoughts.

Natasha, his assistant and secretary, breezed in with her tab at the ready.

Her fiery red hair pulled into a sleek ponytail that complemented her sharp cheekbones and confident stride.

Dressed in a fitted black blazer over a silk blouse, her look was as no-nonsense as her demeanor.

Natasha knew how to handle any crowd they had to deal with and her look right then was fitting for the official meeting they were about to have.

“We’ve got the Arabian investor coming in soon,” she announced, not bothering with pleasantries. “You’re going to need to work on that face, boss. You look like a surly grandpa who just lost his favourite cane.”

Dante raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching despite himself.

Natasha had a way of getting under his skin.

Of course, not in the same way Annabelle did.

Natasha’s irreverence was deliberate, almost endearing.

And her ability to tell him exactly what she thought was one of the reasons he’d hired her.

“Mind your business,” he grumbled, leaning back in his chair.

Natasha ignored him entirely, crossing her arms and leaning against his desk as she corked her head to the side like she was about to solve a puzzle, “Seriously, what’s with the gloom? Business is booming. We’re on track for expansion. And yet here you are, glowering like someone just told you Christmas is cancelled. That leaves one possibility; woman problems.”

Dante shot her a glare, but her smirk only widened. “Bullshit.”

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Nah, it tracks. You’ve got that look. What is the word for it?”

She peered at him like she had a microscope in her hand, then she snapped her fingers.

“Got it. You look frustrated, distracted, and just a little bit... forlorn. Like someone told you the woman of your dreams doesn’t want you.”

“Drop it, Natasha,” Dante said, his voice low.

But Natasha wasn’t one to let go of a bone once she’d sunk her teeth into it.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she clicked her crimson-painted nails together. “Oh, my God, I’m right! There’s actually a woman who doesn’t want you! I’d give anything to meet her.”

Dante ran a hand over his face, half-exasperated, half-amused. “You’re full of shit.”

“Probably,” she said with a shrug. “But it’s true, isn’t it? Who is she? Wait…”

She straightened, her eyes narrowing. “Is it that bi… Antonia? No, that can’t be it. She would crawl over broken glass to be yours. Hell, she’d probably volunteer for it.”

“Enough,” Dante growled, his tone sharper now.

Antonia would never think of him like that and Natasha was just spewing nonsense.

Natasha just shook her head, her grin turning sly. “You don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?”

She didn’t answer, her smile cryptic as she let the question hang in the air.

Then, as if a light bulb had gone off in her head, her eyes lit up.

“Wait a minute. It must be that gorgeous brunette I saw coming out of the mansion the day you set me on Carl. The one with looks that could set a man on fire with one glance. Is that her?”

Dante said nothing, but his deliberate silence must have given the annoying lady more information.

Her triumphant laugh filled the room.

“I knew it! So, what’s the problem? She’s already living in your house. I bet you’ve digged that too. So, what’s got you so tied in knots?”

Dante pushed back his chair and stood, his broad shoulders casting a shadow over her. “You’re nosy as hell, you know that?”

She tilted her head, unfazed. “It’s a gift. Look, if you want to know if she gives a damn about you, make her jealous. See if she reacts.”

Dante paused, her words catching him off guard. “Jealous? That’s your big idea?”

Natasha shrugged, a wicked glint in her eye. “Worked for my ex. Nothing gets under someone’s skin like the thought of losing you to someone else.”

He didn’t care to hear about her damn ex, but could there be some sense in her nonsense?

He scoffed, but the idea lingered in his mind. “And how would you suggest I do that?”

Her smile widened. “Oh, boss, I have plenty of ideas. But let’s start small. Bring another woman around. See how she handles it.”

Dante’s jaw clenched as he mulled over the suggestion.

It was petty, yes, but damn if it didn’t have a certain appeal.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re predictable,” she shot back. “But hey, no one’s stopping you from sulking all night instead. Your call.”

Dante shook his head, a reluctant smirk tugging at his lips.

Natasha might be a pain, but she had a knack for cutting through the noise.

As he glanced at his watch and prepared for the meeting.

He couldn’t help but wonder: would Annabelle care enough to get jealous?

The fact that the thought made something close to hope stir in him annoyed him.

Would he really do something that silly?

And if she did, what would that mean for them?

“Where the fuck would I get a sensible woman to make her jealous?” he suddenly muttered out loud.

Natasha blinked and opened her eyes wide as she patted her chest delicately,

Then she said in a pained tone while blinking rapidly, “You hurt me, boss.”

"I said sensible," Dante said while stifling the smile that wanted to show on his face.

Her hurt look widened even more as she said, "Now, you will have to beg me to enjoy my expertise."

Dante ignored her silliness and said nothing more about her offer.

But as they headed to the meeting location with Arabian, he couldn’t help but wonder.

Could it really work?