Of course. Why did parents always think their kids were God’s gift to humankind, highly talented and well-behaved altruists, when most of them were annoying, spoiled brats with egomaniac tendencies and a penchant for honesty that bordered on cruelty.
“I’m sure she is.”
Steps rang out upstairs and a flash of brown hair popped up at the top of the stairs. Anna Cavallaro practically frolicked down the staircase, her ponytail bobbing up and down in the most annoying way possible. As icing on the cake, she was dressed in a checkered costume even a woman in her fifties would feel old in. She flashed me a smile. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. She pushed her hand in my direction, peering up at me. “Nice to meet you.”
I forced a smile that felt like it might actually freeze over my fucking face muscles. “Pleasure,” I gritted out. It was a lie, but from the look in her eyes, she didn’t realize it. Dante, however, seemed to look right through me. Yet, he didn’t look displeased by my lack of excitement over meeting his daughter. He knew my ability to protect her didn’t hinge on sympathy. I released her small hand the second propriety allowed it. Another thing I fucking hated: having to be proper. Now that I’d spend my days around Dante’s daughter, my unrestrained cursing and bursts of rage were a thing of the past.
“It’ll be fun,” Anna said.
Maybe she thought I would be her friend or her personal playmate. The girl had a nasty surprise waiting for her. I would protect her. That was the extent of our bond.
“So you’ll protect me with your life?” she asked with a curious tilt of her head, her blue eyes trying to put me on the spot and test my sincerity.
And for the first time today, I didn’t have to lie.
“I’ll protect you until I take my last breath.”
Or until your father shows me mercy and puts me out of my misery.
The first time I met Santino, I almost burst with excitement. I had only briefly seen him before but even then, his tallness and handsome face had made my belly flip for the first time in my life.
I was excited about having him guard me. He seemed like he could be fun to be around and not such a stickler to the rules. I thought he and I would get along well.
Soon I realized that wouldn’t be the case.
In the beginning Santino had still tried to mask his annoyance over having to watch me, but it became apparent very quickly. He didn’t like children, or people in general. He didn’t like when I talked to him. Or when I laughed too loudly. Or when I breathed too close to him. He barely tolerated my existence.
I was pretty sure only his sense of duty kept him from strangling Leonas or me.
I was angry. Really angry. I’d been raised to be well-behaved, polite, and think before I acted. Mom and Dad were both poised and controlled in public. They were what I aspired to be.
Santino sat at the table in the guardhouse with his dad and Mom’s second bodyguard Taft. I swallowed when I stepped into the room but tried to hide my nerves.
“Can I have a word with Santino?” I asked, my voice firm. I felt proud of how confident and adult I’d sounded. People always told me I was an old soul hiding in the body of a twelve-year-old. That didn’t stop them from treating me like a kid though.
Taft’s mouth twitched and he got up. “Of course.”
Santino’s dad gave Santino a look I didn’t understand before he rose as well. With a brief smile at me, both men left. Santino leaned back in his chair, one brow slanting upward in a way that was probably meant to insult me as well. I’d learned to read the twitches of his face as a way to express what he couldn’t say aloud.
I couldn’t take it anymore. “If you hate me so much, why did you agree to become my bodyguard?” Gone was the poise and confidence. I sounded hurt and childish, but I couldn’t help it.
Santino released a momentous sigh and I could practically hear his thoughts “here we go…”
“What makes you think I hate you?”
“Because you find everything I do and say annoying.”
He didn’t deny it, and that, too, stung. I wasn’t even sure why I wanted his approval. He was just my bodyguard.
Santino leaned forward, his forearms casually propped up on his thighs. “You don’t know what hatred is if you think I hate you. I don’t.”
“But you don’t like me.”
“I don’t have to like you to protect you.”
I pressed my lips together, feeling a treacherous burn in my eyes. “You shouldn’t protect someone you don’t like. You should have told my dad no if you hate the job so much.”