Page 61 of Powerful Deception

Now it’s almost ten and I’m trying to walk through the house and stay as quiet as possible, so that I don’t wake up the kids.

Tomorrow morning, I start on gaining Dante’s trust in any way I can.

I’m able to walk up the stairs and make it into my room without too much fuzz. I even go as far as letting out a sigh of relief when I close the door and turn on the light.

I start to take off my shoes and head to the actual bedroom, when I notice something or more so, someone, sitting in the living room area.

I don’t need to ask who it is; I already know.

Much like the time in his office, a shiver crawls down my spine as I feel his murderous gaze on me.

It’s daunting and very full of power.

“Mr. Rosetti.” I say, my voice shaking in the process. “What are you doing here? Sitting in the dark?”

Not once has Dante stepped foot in my living quarters, so him being here now is making me go on high alert.

“How was your day, Ms. Amato?” Dante asks, his voice hard and nothing like it was this morning.

Caring and kind.

“Um, it was fine.” I say, the words coming out a bit confused.

Was it the kiss? Did the kiss change something?

“Just fine?” he asks, giving me a look of indifference. I give him a nod. “You didn’t go to any interesting places?”

A bead of sweat rolls down my temple. Why would he ask me that?

“No, just ran a few errands, went to do some laundry.” I shrug as if it’s something I do every Sunday, but given the look he is giving me, he doesn’t believe me.

“You could have laundry here.” He says, with the same indifference in his voice as before.

“I could have,” I say, standing as still as possible. Maybe if I don’t move, he won’t see that I’m lying to him.

I watch the man in front of me, very much the mob boss that he is. The way he is sitting, with his back straight, his left ankle placed on his right foot, his arms on the arm rest unmoving. Everything about the man screams out danger.

Yet, I wish I was closer to him, so that I can feel all the danger that he exudes all over my body.

“Yet.” Dante says, breaking my concentration of him. “Yet you decided to go to Little Italy and go do laundry at a place owned by Roberto Gallo.”

His face goes from one of indifference to one of anger.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

How does he know? How does he know where I was?

“I-I don’t know who that is. And h-how do you know where I went?” Not only is my voice shaking, but it feels like my whole body is too.

He knows everything. I know he does.

I was stupid to think that it would take him longer than a month to find out that I’m a fraud. There is no doubt in my mind that by next week, I’m going to be buried next to my parents.

“I don’t believe that you don’t know who that fucker is. Roberto Gallo is a piece of shit that has things coming his way,” Dante starts. “That man has wanted me dead for years. Do you really think I’m stupid enough to not have a man always watch that laundromat? I have someone telling me every single person that walks through those doors. So, imagine my surprise when I get told that my nanny walked in there today and it wasn’t her first time.”

I feel the tears forming at the back of my eyes again and my mind is working overtime trying to find a lie that will stick. A lie that he will believe.

“I was just doing laundry,” I say, my voice so small that I’m surprised he heard it.

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