“Mom is in the backyard.”
“Dad.” Hope runs down the stairs.
“We have company.” Max’s body gets tight.
“Hi.” Hope waves.
It’s been years since I last saw her. She’s no longer a baby.
“Go to your room, Hope.”
“But Dad—” Her eyes go wide.
“Goto your room now and don’t come down until our guest leaves.”
“But Dad—”
“Now.”
She turns on her heel and marches up the steps.
“Well now, wasn’t that a warm welcome.”
“Did you really think I want my daughter to hang around with you?”
No. “I’m crushed.”
“You’re a murderer.”
What else is new? “Like there is a man in this house that hasn’t murdered someone.”
“It’s not the same. Can you even keep track of your body count anymore?”
I stopped trying years ago. Though their faces I remember. “Does it matter when they aren’t worth counting?”
“Not really. Mom’s expecting you.” Max walks to the backyard without another word.
Why am I even here? Dahlia doesn’t need to make friends with Imogene. Imogene needs to get out of Payne’s life.
But he’s my friend. Life would be so much easier if I lived like a hermit in the woods with my books… and food delivery.
Though for some reason, I don’t mind cooking for Dahlia.
Talon and Temperance are cuddled up at a wrought-iron table in their spacious garden. When you head the Vincenti Family, it only makes sense that you live in a mansion. But billionaires like Max don’t. They usually isolate themselves from the world. This is too normal for a mafia don and his son a tech billionaire.
“Don Vincenti, Mrs. Vincenti.”
“Vex, have a seat.” Talon doesn’t bother getting up from his chair.
To be fair, if I had Dahlia wrapped up in my arms like he has Temperance, I wouldn’t want to move either.
“Would you like a cookie?” Temperance lifts up a half-full plate. “They’re a pecan caramel butter cookie.”
“A neighbor made them for me.” Max smirks.
Who cares if some desperate woman is throwing herself at him? “No, thank you.” Sometime between now and my next meeting, I should grab a quick bite to eat.
“Suit yourself, but you’re missing out.” Max takes one.