Page 64 of Dance of Madness

I sigh. “You’re always welcome here, just…a heads up would be nice.”

“Heads up,” she grins. “I need a place to crash for a few days. Maybe a week.”

“And… Why is that?”

Again, Gabby has her ownveryexpensive place in Soho.

She shrugs. “I’m having my place painted.”

I arch a brow. “When?”

“Now?” She shrugs. “I think they just got there.”

I stare at her. “I’m sorry—what?”

My sister sighs dramatically as she puts the half-empty water bottle back in the fridge, closes the door and then leans against it.

“I was tired of the all-white look. And I was talking to this cute bartender tonight, and hiscousinowns an interior painting company. So…” She spreads her hands. “I think I’m going to go with Atmospheric Encore. It’s this great jewel-tone blue?—”

“Back up,” I growl, frowning. “You hired painterstonightto go to your fucking apartment and start painting?”

She gives me a “duh” look.

“Itismy place, Nero.”

“And we have protocols for a reason, Gabriella,” Dom grunts, sighing.

I turn to him. “Get some people over there asap. Make sure those fuckers aren't robbing her blind or installing cameras in the goddamn bathroom.”

Dom nods curtly, pulls out his phone and turns away to make a call. Gabby rolls her eyes at me.

“Is there a reason you think so little of me?”

“Well, hiring painters you met through your fuckingbartenderto paint your penthouse at four in the morning comes to mind.”

She flips me off. “I’m notstupid, Nero. I sent over some of that crew of bodyguards you insist on. They were there when the painters showed up. And if the job sucks?” She arches her brows. “Then I paint it back. It’s justmoney, Nero. I don’t think that’s exactly a rare resource with us?”

She sighs when my jaw tightens.

“Jesus, I was feeling spontaneous. So sue me.”

Dom walks back over, slipping his phone into his jacket pocket.

“In future, Ms. De Luca?—”

“Yes,Mr.Caruso?” she fires back.

Dom inhales deeply. “In the future, if you’re feeling 'spontaneous', I’d ask that you kindly run it by me first.Especially if you’re sending members of your security detail off on unexpected errands.”

“Relax, Dom,” she says, walking over to the fruit bowl on the kitchen island. She plucks up an apple and takes a big, crunching bite out of it. “No security guards were harmed in the making of tonight’s bad decisions.”

“Glad to hear it,” he mutters, jaw ticking.

“Don’t be mad,” she coos, turning back to him. “I didn’t do anything dangerous.”

“Then why’d you ditch your detail?” he growls.

She shrugs. “Because they were boring?”

---