Page 14 of Code Name: Dante

“Look, you might not believe this, but I fell for Lark the first time I saw her.”

“Of course you did. She’s a beautiful, innocent girl like her mother.”

I shook my head. “There’s more to my feelings; there has been right from the start. Yes, she is beautiful, but it was her aura that reminded me—” I stopped myself. I’d almost gone too far.

“Of who?” Mrs. Gregory asked, leaning forward like a snake about to strike.

“My mother.” I spoke the words so quietly, hoping she didn’t hear. No such luck.

“Amelia,” she said, whispering.

“How do you know her name?”

“I remember seeing the wedding announcement.” She answered too quickly, looking off in the distance. “She was beautiful. And you’re right, Lark looks a lot like her.” Her eyes met mine. “Oedipus complex, Alessandro?” she said with a smirk and a wink.

I shook my head and chuckled. Apparently, Mrs. Gregory had a wicked sense of humor, and I was happy to have the chance to see it.

“What made you turn on your family?” she blurted like when she’d asked about my intentions.

“Many things, but mainly, her.”

“What happened?”

“She said she was going on a trip…”

“How old were you?”

“Six. I never heard from her again. Years later, after our father died, my brother told me she was safe, but he wouldn’t tell me where.”

She nodded slowly. “I see.”

My words caught as I described our last goodbye, not knowing it would be final.

“Ah.” Her expression softened. “Now, that sounds more like the truth.” A shadow crossed her face. “Lark’s mother left too. The pain never quite heals.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Be honest.” She gestured upstairs. “Tell her what you told me. Leave the machismo behind—no woman likes that.”

“I can do that.”

“Can you?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She leaned against the chair. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

I raised a brow.

“Up the stairs, third door on your left.”

6

LARK

Before I even heard the knock on the bedroom door, I knew from the sound of someone coming up the stairs, then down the hallway, that it was Alessandro. I also knew his reason for looking for me. “Time to leave,” he’d say, barking it like an order I was supposed to follow without question, opinion, or disagreement. Even if I had a good reason, he’d be unwilling to listen. It was exactly what Gram had warned me about.

Castellanos were all about control.

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