Page 43 of Savage Union
"I'll take those," I point to the most ostentatious pair—oversized frames with gaudy crystal embellishments. "And those, and those."
"Excellent choices." Jennifer doesn't even blink at my selections, which now include a pair of sunglasses with actual tiny feathers protruding from the frames.
"Don't you want to try them on?" Dante asks, looking pained.
"Why bother? They're all coming home with me." I scan the case again. "Oh, those too."
Jennifer is adding items to my account with the efficiency of someone who recognizes a once-in-a-career sale. "Would you like to look at handbags as well, Miss Rosso?"
"I—"
"No," Dante cuts in firmly. "We're done. Process the payment and arrange delivery." He steps closer to me, dropping his voice. "Boss wants you back. Now."
The way he says it makes me pause. There's tension in his posture that wasn't there before. "Did he call?"
"Just got a text." Dante's expression is unreadable, but there's something in his eyes—concern? Warning? "We need to go."
A small flicker of apprehension rises in my chest before I squash it down. This was the plan—to push boundaries, to create chaos in Vito's ordered world. If he's angry, good. At least I'm not being the obedient bride-to-be he wants.
"Fine." I turn to Jennifer. "Please make sure everything arrives today. It's... a surprise."
Her smile is knowing. "Of course. Your fiancé will be thrilled."
I don't correct her assumption. Let her think this is a romantic gesture rather than an act of rebellion. "Thank you for your help."
"My pleasure." She hands Dante the receipt, which he glances at before folding carefully and tucking into his jacket pocket. His jaw tightens imperceptibly—the damage must be substantial.
As we exit the store, I can't resist asking, "So how much did I spend?"
Dante gives me a sidelong look. "Enough to make me grateful I'm not the one explaining it."
"That bad, huh?" I feel a flutter of satisfaction mixed with nervous anticipation.
"Let's just say I hope it was worth it." He guides me toward the waiting car, his hand hovering near my elbow without quite touching me. Always careful about Vito's rules, even now.
We're halfway to the car when a sleek black Bentley pulls up to the curb, and my stomach drops. The back door opens, and Vito emerges like a storm cloud in human form. His face is composed, as always, but there's a dangerous intensity in his eyes that I can feel even from several feet away.
"Shit," Dante mutters beside me.
Vito adjusts his cuffs—a gesture I've come to recognize as a sign he's reining himself in—and walks toward us with measured steps. People instinctively move out of his path, sensing the barely contained energy radiating from him.
"Caterina." His voice is soft, which somehow makes it more terrifying. "Enjoying your shopping?"
I lift my chin, refusing to be intimidated. "Very much, thank you."
His eyes flick to Dante, who visibly stiffens. "Wait in the car."
"Boss, I?—"
"The car, Dante." The command leaves no room for argument.
Dante retreats, leaving me alone with Vito on the crowded sidewalk. Despite the people flowing around us, it feels like we're in our own bubble of tension.
"Your first taste of freedom, and this is how you use it?" Vito steps closer, his voice for my ears only.
"You said I could go shopping."
"I agreed to a reasonable excursion, not emptying half the store." His jaw tightens. "And certainly not having it all delivered to my home."
