Page 7 of Code Name: Dante

“I can be very patient.” The double meaning wasn’t lost on her, and a slight flush crept up her neck.

“Your turn.” She pushed the tools toward me, careful to avoid making contact.

I mimicked her movements, though my attention was split between the task and monitoring the street through the front windows, especially when I saw the sedan pass by again.

“Your grip is too tight. You’ll snap the whisk.”

“Sorry.” I loosened my hold, trying to focus solely on the delicate bamboo between my fingers rather than my growing concern about her safety. “Better?”

“Yes. You’re actually not terrible at this.” Was that surprise in her voice?

“High praise.” I smiled. “I’ll admit I did some research before stopping in.”

“Of course you did.” The words were sharp, but lacking their earlier bite. “Intelligence gathering is your specialty, isn’t it?”

“Among other things.” I set the whisk down when something hidden partially under a cleaning rag caught my eye. “What is that?”

She stiffened, then pulled an envelope out and stuffed it in the back pocket of her jeans.

“You said intelligence gathering is my specialty, and right now, my intuition is telling me that you’re hiding something from me that you shouldn’t.”

Her mouth gaped. “You…I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stammered.

“What’s in that envelope, Lark? The one you don’t want me to see?”

“None of your business.”

I reached around and grabbed it from her pocket before she could stop me. That it was unopened was telling.

“High-end paper,” I said quietly, studying it. “Cream-colored with a watermark. No return address, and not the first you’ve received.”

“Get out.” Her voice was low as she took two steps away from me.

“Lark—”

“No.” Her arms crossed. “I don’t need your protection, and I don’t need any other Castellano telling me what’s best for my family’s business.”

Her words hit hard, but I kept my expression neutral. “Any other Castellano?” I started to open the envelope, but she snatched it away the same way I had from her. “Lark, you should know that I’ve dedicated my life to stopping exactly the kind of threats in that letter.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I stepped forward and grabbed her arm tighter than I meant to. “All I want to do is help you, Lark. Why can’t you see that?”

I caught the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “Because you’re Vincent Castellano’s brother.”

“Estranged brother,” I corrected gently. “Current DOJ informant and future K19 Sentinel Cyber partner. And someone who’s seen too many people hurt by staying silent about threats like what’s in that envelope that you don’t want me to see.”

Something outside caught my attention. I grimaced when the black sedan parked across the street.

“We need to leave.”

Her eyes opened wide, and her mouth gaped a second time. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“I’m going to make sure you get home safely, Lark.” And as soon as I had, all hell was going to rain down on whoever was behind the wheel of that fucking car.

A noise from the basement made her start. It was just the building settling, but her reaction confirmed my suspicions that she’d received threats from someone.

“What else do you need to do to close up?”

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