Page 8 of Brutal Don

“Why are you telling me this?” Cara asked.

“Who would you blab to?”Dante inquired.“You have no family left and very little friends.”

“You did your research,” Cara said.

“I’m offering you a new life, Cara,” Dante finally said.

He didn’t know what it was about this woman, but her presence was a breath of fresh air. Cara certainly stood out from all the women he’d bedded in the past.

Dante had never thought of taking a wife before but he considered it now. A man like him needed a strong-willed partner by his side. He would ponder the idea a little more later, when he had time to himself.

“A new life as your prisoner?” she asked.

“Both of us are on unsteady footing at the moment but once we come to agreement, then the rules can be amended,” Dante said. He poured himself another glass of wine and waited for her reaction.

****

“Amendable? What the hell does that even mean?” Cara demanded.

This man aggravated her so much. Cara would never admit that he fascinated her as well.

“You strike me as a very smart woman, Cara. Can’t you figure it out?” Dante asked. He cut himself a slice of pork roast, added some mashed potatoes and sautéed peas to the plate. Then he switched their plates and served himself.

Cara stared down at her plate. “Are you going to decide what and how much I eat as well?”

His laugh shouldn’t sound so captivating or sexy but it did.

“Rest assured, I’m not that much of a control freak,” he said. “You looked hungry and I only ate a salad for lunch.”

He started eating. Two could play this game. Cara ate as well and grudgingly admitted everything tasted good. She had a feeling everything Martha made was fantastic. Did Dante really mean it? That he would eventually relax the rules as time went by?

He could have been lying, of course, but Cara didn’t think so. Cara had a feeling Dante wasn’t the type of man who lied often. He didn’t need to.

Maybe in the end, this was simply another tactic for him—to give her some smidge of hope only to take it away later. Cara leashed her emotions and remembered her initial plan. Nothing had changed. Her goal remained the same—to be patient and eventually find a way out of there.

“Martha’s outdone herself again,” Dante said, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

She found herself drawn to his lips, the way he could easily shape them to a cruel smile. He set the napkin down and poured himself another glass of wine.

“She did,” Cara agreed. “How long has she been working for you?”

“She has been working for my family ever since I was a child,”Dante replied.

That explained Martha’s loyalty to him.

“More wine?” Dante asked her.

She stood up with her empty wineglass in hand, then walked to his side of the table. Cara felt the weight of his stare as she topped her drink. He certainly seemed to enjoy the sight of her in the dress he chose.

“I never enjoyed the taste of wine but this is different, sweeter than usual,” she said.

“One of my father’s favorites, they only make a few a year,” Dante said. “I had Martha take it from the cellar in the old house.”

Cara perched on the edge of his table, unsure where this was going or what she was doing. Was she trying to flirt with him? She’d never been good at seduction. Even on the painfully few dates she went on, Cara had been reserved and passive. She always waited for her date to make the next move.

During her brief research, she knew Dante’s father had been shot while coming out of a church.

“Were you close with your father?” she asked.

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