The Dictator (Banker 2)

“So it’s just going to sit there forever?”

“You want to sell it?”

“I don’t know…haven’t really thought about it.”

“Well, now you can.”

“You never answered my question.”

I was certain we’d touched all the bases. “What question is that?”

“When’s your birthday?”

I picked up my fork again and continued eating. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. How are we going to celebrate it if I don’t know when it is?”

“Because we won’t celebrate it.”

“Cato—”

“Drop it.” I silenced her with my tone, telling her I wouldn’t change my mind about this. “I never celebrate my birthday, and I’m not going to start now. Even Bates doesn’t acknowledge it. So leave it alone.” I turned back to my food and ate like nothing had happened. I could feel her gaze on my face, feel her disappointment penetrate through my skin. “If you don’t want me to be an asshole, don’t make me into one.”

“I’m not,” she said quietly. “I care about the man I’m sleeping with, the father of my child, and I just wanted to do something nice for you…because you mean a lot to me. The only reason you’re acting like an asshole right now is because you are an asshole. If you just dropped your guard, you would see that I’m on your side…that I’ve always been on your side.”

When I came home from the office, I had dinner alone in the dining room then made my way upstairs. Siena was in my living room, so I went into the shower right away and didn’t greet her at all. After I showered, I pulled on a pair of boxers then stepped into the living room.

She was watching TV, wearing one of my t-shirts and a pair of white socks.

I knew she was mad at me, but I couldn’t stop myself from thinking she looked cute. “Baby.”

She looked at me over her shoulder but didn’t flash me that pretty smile. “You’re home late.”

“I had a lot to do.” I had branches all over the world, so I had to delegate tasks constantly. Bates and I crunched numbers more than anything else. Threatening people to pay us back was actually a very small part of our job. I moved to the spot beside her and noticed the gift bag with tissue paper on the table.

That must have been for me.

She grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. “I wanted to give this to you…” She grabbed the bag then handed it to me. “It’s not for any special occasion or anything… I had Giovanni go out and get it for me.”

I held the bag but considered not opening it. It annoyed me when she did nice things for me, although I had no idea why. I guess I wanted to be the one to do everything. “Then what is it for?”

“I thought we could hang it up. Just open it.”

I finally reached my hand inside and pulled out something solid. It was flat and long, not heavy at all. I pulled the tissue paper off then looked at the picture frame. Inside was the picture of the sonogram. Siena had added the date in pink writing, along with the words “Baby Girl Marino.” I stared at it and didn’t know what to say.

“I thought we could hang it up in here. You know…since we don’t have any paintings.”

I kept staring at the picture of my daughter, when she was so small we had no idea if she was a he or a she. Now she’d grown so big, made such a bulge in Siena’s belly that her presence was undeniable.

“We don’t have to put it up if you don’t want to,” she said quietly. “I just thought—”

“I love it.” Once again, Siena showed me how valuable things could be, especially when they were free. This gift meant more to me than anything she could have bought me. It meant more to me than anything I’d ever bought myself. It was thoughtful, meaningful, and it reminded me how big Siena’s heart was. I hoped our daughter inherited all her good qualities—and very little of my own. “Thank you.”

“Do you really like it?” she asked, finally smiling.

“I do.” I looked at her and gave her a smile. “And I want to hang it up. I want to look at it every day.”

“Me too. I looked at it every day I was gone.”

“So, she can have my last name?”

“I figured I didn’t have a choice in the matter…”

“We could hyphenate.” If we would never be married, it didn’t seem fair that Siena didn’t have any presence in the name.

“Really?” she asked.

“Yeah. Russo-Marino.”

She nodded. “I’ll take that.” She took the picture frame from my hands and admired it. “I’m so excited to meet her. I really hope she has your eyes. I remember the first time I saw them…I thought I’d never seen anything more beautiful.”