Chapter 2 - The Predator's Domain
Dominic’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before he recovered, though his shoulders tightened under Berto's gaze. "Just expanding my horizons, Castiano. A brilliant mind like hers shouldn't be wasted fetching coffee and dodging federal subpoenas."
"My secretary's schedule is full," Berto stepped closer, invading Dominic’s space with casual, terrifying dominance. "And her loyalty isn't on the market. Walk away, Dominic. Before I forget we're in polite company."
Dominic scoffed, tossing back the remainder of his Scotch. "You're getting soft, Berto. Keeping a civilian around for four years? It's a liability."
"Try me," Berto whispered, a micro-expression of pure lethal intent flashing across his angular face.
Dominic didn't test him further. He offered Anna a tight, plastic smile, muttered an excuse about checking his phone, and vanished into the crowd.
Anna let out a breath she didn't realize she’d been holding. She turned to Berto, adjusting the strap of her emerald dress. "You didn't have to terrify him quite that much. Though, admittedly, the 'soft' comment was rich coming from the man who cried over a paper cut last month."
"I did not cry," Berto said, his jaw twitching instantly. "I expressed mild frustration at a localized trauma."
"Right. And the dramatic sigh?"
"Exhaustion from managing your insubordination." Berto reached out, his long fingers unexpectedly catching the edge of her collarbone to straighten a crooked strap. The brief, accidental brush of his knuckles against her skin sent a sudden, traitorous jolt straight down her spine. He lingered for a heartbeat too long before dropping his hand. "Dance with me."
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"Excuse me?" Anna blinked. "You don't dance. You intimidate people into financial submission. Dancing isn't in your portfolio."
"Neither is putting up with your backtalk for four years, yet here we are." He offered her his arm, his dark eyes daring her to refuse. "Come on, Anna. Let's give them something real to whisper about."
