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within a hundred blocks of her, let alone been able to take her

to dinner, without her father wishing it to be so.

“It’s more than that.” Antonio tossed back the golden liquid

in his glass. He stared her down in the unnerving way she’d

seen him look at his men before, when he expected

unquestionable fealty.

Cassia shifted slightly on the wooden seat. She was

unnerved by the hard glint in his eyes, by how unfeeling and

mean they looked, by the stony set of his jaw. This wasn’t the

man who occasionally showed her warmth and care. This was

a cold businessman who was calculating the odds of his master

bsp; plan working out.

And it would work. She had no doubts, because when it

came to her father, she knew no one more driven or ruthless.

Her stomach churned with sudden anxiety. She hated that look.

That look wasn’t reserved for her. She wasn’t supposed to be

part of a plan, a bargaining tool for something her father

wanted.

“M-more?” She sounded stupid and she knew it.

She hated that more than anything. She didn’t want to

humiliate herself. Her eyes stung with impending tears, but she

didn’t blink. She didn’t look up at the glass ceiling lights

mounted close to the varnished wooden boards above. Her

father had a thing for hardwood and everything from the walls

to the floors and the ceilings were done in different, expensive

types of wood throughout the palatial house. Cassia stared

straight ahead at her father and willed the tears away.

“You know that as a member of this family, you have

certain duties.”