The Dictator (Banker 2)

I watched him walk away in the reflection and finish getting ready.

I brushed my teeth in the sink then pulled my hair loose from the hair tie. Now that I didn’t have a job, I had nothing to do with my time other than think about giving birth to Martina. Childbirth was one of the most painful things a human could ever experience, and I wasn’t looking forward to it. I’d rather have Damien shoot me in the shoulder again.

I returned to the bedroom and watched him put his suit together. “Any exciting plans for work?”

“I’m going out tonight with a few clients.”

“Like to dinner?”

“No. A bar.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to a bar for work?”

“A lot of my criminal partners prefer to avoid the office. Too public, especially when the sun is out. It’s not unusual.”

Whenever I saw Cato in a bar, women threw their asses in his face. They stuck their tongues down his throat and helped themselves to his lap. The idea of Cato returning to that atmosphere made me feel nauseated again. “Will Bates be there?”

“Yes.”

That made it worse.

He sat in the armchair and finished tying his shoes. “What is it, baby?”

“I’m not thrilled about you doing business in a bar.”

He tied the other shoe then rose to his full height. “Why?”

“Uh, because I’ve seen women hump you right in the middle of the room.”

“So?” he asked. “I humped them too.”

My eyes flashed with rage. “You aren’t helping.”

“I don’t know what you expect me to say. I’m meeting my clients for drinks, and there’s nothing I can do to change that. Yes, there will be women there. And yes, they’ll probably try to sit on my lap. I could go to a bowling alley, and that would still happen.” He walked to the dresser and grabbed his watch and wallet. “I’m going to be out late, so I’ll probably just sleep at my place in Florence.”

The place where he took me to fuck me the first time. I remembered the beautiful woman lying beside me with no opposition to a threesome. So now he would spend the evening at a bar and not bother coming home. “Is this a joke?”

“You aren’t laughing, so I don’t think so.”

There was so much back-and-forth with Cato. One moment, he was sensitive and loving, and then the next moment, he was incredulous of my feelings. “How would you feel if I went to a bar to meet an art client and said I wouldn’t be coming home.”

“You’re pregnant, so I would say you’re a terrible mother.”

I smacked his arm. “I’m being serious.”

“What do you want me to say?” he snapped. “This is happening, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“You’re Cato Marino. You could do anything you wanted to.” Playing to his ego was the best way to manipulate him. Like all powerful men, it was his downfall.

But he didn’t take the bait. “For two months, I had every opportunity to fuck as much pussy as I wanted. Instead, I drank in my office and stared at your pictures. Now that I have you back, you think I’m gonna fuck a woman in a bathroom stall at a bar?”

My jealousy clouded my judgment until I couldn’t think straight. “I know how women are with you. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. No offense, but I don’t want to be home alone wondering if they’re trying to get into your lap. I’ve seen women sit on your lap and let their dresses slide all the way to their waists to flash everyone in the bar. And most of them weren’t wearing underwear.”

He adjusted his watch on his wrist as he looked at me. “I’m not ashamed of my life before you. If you’re waiting for an apology, you won’t get one. I enjoyed every second of that period of my life—until I found something better.”

As touching as it was, it wasn’t enough for me. “Then come home.”

“It’ll probably be three in the morning.”

“I don’t care.”

He slid his hands into his pockets and shook his head. “I’m surprised you don’t trust me.”

“It’s not about trust. It just makes me jealous picturing you out at a bar…with those women fighting for your attention. If this situation were reversed, you wouldn’t be okay with it.”

“Completely different situations.”

“Because I’m a woman?” I asked incredulously.

“Exactly.” He turned away from me and headed to the door. “I’ll call you when I get to my place in Florence tonight.”

I followed behind him. “Couldn’t I just come with you?”

He stopped and turned around. “Come with me?”

“Why not?”

His eyes darted back and forth as he looked into mine. “You want to come to work with me today, and then stay out until two in the morning listening to me talk about business, all so you can keep an eye on me?”