Chapter 19
CHAPTER 7 — THE HOUSE THAT WATCHES
Alessia stopped before getting in.
“What happens now?”
“You come back to the house.”
“No.”
Dante looked at her.
She crossed her arms.
“We’ve discussed this. Someone knows your name. They know about the necklace. They know where your father hid the ledger.” She tilted her head. “And your solution is to put me inside the mafia boss’s mansion.”
“Yes.”
“That sounds worse when you say it plainly.”
“Probably.”
She studied him. “Am I an employee?”
Dante looked at the maid uniform folded inside her suitcase.
“No.”
“Then what am I?”
He thought about Bianca’s warning. Giovani’s promise. The ledger in his hand. The person who had tried to remove Allesia from that house before she could speak.
“I don’t know yet.”
“That is not reassuring.”
“It’s honest.”
She looked at him for a long moment.
“Do I get to choose?”
The question landed harder than he expected.
Yesterday morning, her suitcase had been packed before anyone asked what had happened. Her job had been taken from her before she entered the room. Everyone had made decisions around her — including him.
Dante opened the car door.
“Yes.”
Alessia looked inside, then at him.
“And if I say no?”
“Then I put security outside wherever you choose to stay.”
“Without entering. Without telling me what I’m allowed to do.”
His jaw tightened.
“I’ll try.”
She smiled slightly. “Terrible answer.”
“Honest one.”
Alessia looked toward the waking city. Then she stepped into the car.
Dante entered beside her. For several minutes they rode in silence, and the sky went from gray to silver over the lake.
Finally she said, “I’m still not putting the uniform back on.”
“I wasn’t going to ask.”
“And Mrs. Conte doesn’t get to pack my suitcase again.”
“I suspect Mrs. Conte has learned that lesson.”
“And I want my room.”
“You have your room.”
“No guards inside the hallway.”
“Outside the floor.”
“Dante.”
“Stairs.”
She considered.
“Fine.”
He looked out the window.
Alessia smiled. “Did I just negotiate security with a mafia boss?”
“Poorly.”
“I got everything I asked for.”
“You think you did?”
She laughed again, and Dante found himself listening to it longer than he should have.
When they reached the mansion, the staff were already awake.
Mrs. Conte stood in the foyer, hands folded, face composed. Matteo had returned and stood near the staircase with two of his men. The chandelier was lit. The morning light came through the tall windows and lay in long panels across the marble.