Page 41 of Steal My Heart

“He’s not the bad guy you make him out to be,” she argues.

“You don’t know him like I do, Al. How could you? You were eight when he went away.” I tentatively step inside her room and sit on the foot of her bed. Clasping my hands together, I examine them as if they hold the answers. Unfortunately, they do not. “I hate fighting with you.”

She angrily swipes away the tears. “It sure doesn’t seem that way.”

“I only want what’s best for you.”

Al sniffs. “But you act like you’re the only one who knows what that is.”

“Thenyoutell me what that is. I didn’t get a choice in how my future would play out, but you have one. Think about it.” I give her ankle a squeeze before walking out.

Coming to the end of the hall, I knock on the guest bedroom door. “Remi.”

“Yes, Mr. Calvani?” she answers formally.

I fucking hate it.

“Angelo. You will call me Angelo from here on out. Open the door.”

“No, thank you, Mr. Calvani.”

I bang my forehead against the door, leaving it there. “Please?”

First, this woman has me apologizing. Now, she has me begging.

Remi flings open the door, and before I can mount my defense, her palm connects with my cheek. She slams the door and locks it.

“I’m not sleeping with Laurie,” I call through the door. “Yes, we had a sexual relationship, but not since I met you. Yes, I will be attending the mayor’s gala with her, because I need the invite. I vocally and financially backed the losing candidate, and I’m currentlypersona non gratawith the incoming administration. We will discuss all of this in detail when I get back from family business, akamobbusiness. And you’d better fucking believe we will be discussing your eavesdropping on conversations that you shouldn’t.”

Silence.

“Remi.” I growl.

“Yes, Mr. Calvani.”

I tug at my hair in frustration.

“You’re gonna go bald doing that.” The housekeeper passes me in the hall, carrying a basket of towels.

“Thank you, Corinne,” I say between my teeth.

Chapter Thirteen

Angelo

Maks and I enter the lounge of Hotel D’Amico, making our way to the back. My knuckles rap on Sienna’s door, and she calls, “Enter.”

Maks remains on guard as I step inside the viper’s den.

“If it isn’t the big bossman himself.” Sienna pops her hip, flashing her best bedroom eyes.

“Sienna,” I say in a bored tone, closing the door.

When she realizes her beauty has no effect on me—as it never does—she switches tactics. “What’s this nonsense I hear about shutting down our call girl operation?” Her hands fall to her hips. “Surely the rumors aren’t true.”

“They are,” I tell her flatly.

“But that’s only because you’ve yet to sample from the menu. Angelo, I have the perfect woman for you.” She claps her hands together excitedly. “Her name is?—”