Page 46 of Angelo's Vengeance

A long, charged moment passed. His gaze dropped to my mouth, and I saw the flicker behind his eyes. He was holding himself back. Barely.

“Angelo…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m scared.” That was the thing I was scared of: what these feelings were. I had locked myself so tight for so long that I was afraid I would fly into a million pieces and would never be able to put myself back together.

He pressed his forehead to mine. “Me too.”

Another beat. Then I whispered, “So what do we do?”

His lips brushed the corner of my mouth—feather-light. “You eat. We sit. We talk. And I don’t go anywhere tonight.”

“Okay,” I breathed.

He pulled back just as the oven dinged, and I let out a shaky laugh. And I didn’t feel so alone for the first time in weeks.

“What were you working on today?” He asked.

“Nothing much. I’ve got creator’s block.”Shoving the too-hot food in my mouth, I chewed around the scalding hot mess, not caring that it slid down too fast. “I talked to Vivienne. Thanks for handling all that, by the way. I appreciate that. Just before all this happened, I’d been experiencing some issues with the business, so we were reviewing some leads we had. I went back over my contacts again. Just typical stuff.” Picking through the layers, I speared some sausage and mopped up some sauce with a piece of bread.

Angelo took a seat next to me, his eyes intent on mine. “Slow down a second. What kind of problems?”

Outlining the basics, I reviewed what had happened withMythos, how our client base had ghosted, and how orders had dried up. “It was unusual. We were doing really well. Like, super well. I was proud.” Choking up a little, I took a sip of water, ignoring the man beside me, who I knew was turning everything over. I hoped he wasn’t too ashamed that his future wife was an utter failure in business.

“Someone sabotaged you. We need to look into that, because I’d bet money it was Carlotta.” The tone was flat, and when I looked over, there was pure rage in his eyes, knucklesfisted as if he would pound something to dust if he could.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Really? You think so?” The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.

“I do think so. I think it was intentional so that when the invitation came, it would be more appealing and you wouldn’t think twice about heading out the door for a meeting. She probably set everything in motion with a few calls.” He cocked his head at me. “You didn’t ask your brothers for help?”

“No, I wanted to work it out myself.” Now it seemed stupid. If I had asked them, Kostas might have figured this out sooner. The whole situation might have been avoided. My shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Piccola,” Angelo squeezed my hand. “Let’s put that aside for now. Finish your food. In the morning, we’ll focus on figuring out who is behind sinking your business. Everything will be right as rain. I promise.”

The words spread through me and shot straight like an arrow to my panties. First, an unsolicited compliment, then food, and now acceptance and help. He was speaking my love language.

CHAPTER 27

ANGELO

She had been standing therein the kitchen doorway like some sleepy angel.

Tousled curls springing away from her face, shadows pooling under her wide eyes, and that thin robe belted haphazardly around her waist like she didn’t even know she’d seduced every damn molecule of air in the room just by breathing.

I knew she’d overheard me. Heard the damn truth spill out when I wasn’t thinking, when I let my guard down for once with Norris. Of course, she had. She always heard the things I didn’t say. Theodosia had a way with getting words out of me — even words I didn’t mean.

That was the problem with Theodosia Anthakos—she saw too much. Knew how to get under a man’s skin, and I was letting her. Each day, I found that I liked having her in my space, and my fear of the arrangement that had been made was just that … fear. I had misplaced my anger all these years. Maybe I cheated us out of time we could have enjoyed. The thought didn’t sit well.

Now, we were in the kitchen while she forked the last bit of lasagna, pushing the plate away with a satisfied smile.“I wasn’t planning on eavesdropping,” she said, voice low and a little raspy. “But then you started talking about me and… cookie jars.”

I smirked, head tipping as I watched her try to play it cool. “You jealous of Norris’s cookie jars,piccola?”

“I’m jealous of anyone who gets your compliments. You hand them out like rationed whiskey.”

Jesus Christ.

That should’ve made me laugh. Instead, it made my stomach clench and my hands twitch with the need to touch her. I reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, slow, deliberate.

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