Siena sat across from me with her shoulders back and her posture perfect. The menu was open in her hands, and her hair naturally settled across her shoulders with her slight movements.
I ignored the menu and focused on her instead. I could have taken her to my home in Milan and fucked her instead of taking her out to dinner, but spending the evening with her over a bottle of wine didn’t sound so terrible.
It was the most interesting part of my day.
“I’m getting the lasagna.” She shut the menu. “What about you?”
“The chicken.” I filled my glass and took another drink.
She opened the menu again and took a peek. “That doesn’t come with cheese.”
“So?”
“Who goes to an Italian restaurant and orders something without cheese?” She examined the bottle on the table and read the label. “This is a good bottle of wine. You’re a fan of the Barsetti vineyards?”
“They make the best wine. And no, I don’t eat cheese.”
“Lactose intolerant?”
“No.” I couldn’t eat anything with fat or carbs to keep up this appearance.
“If the doctors told me I couldn’t eat cheese, I would just do it anyway. There’s no consequence I wouldn’t face.” She swirled her wine as she looked around the empty room. The other side of the restaurant was full of people, but our side was nearly silent. Low-burning candles were at the empty tables, and the distant sound of classical music came from the other room. She looked out the window for a few seconds before her eyes turned back to me.
Brilliant like gems, her green eyes were as vibrant as the forest after a spring rain. They were so clear and bright, reflecting the light from the candles but also emitting their own sparkle. She wasn’t just a beautiful woman, the likes of which could be found by the dozen. Her unique qualities made her unforgettable, like the sexy curve of her upper lip and the plumpness of her bottom one. Her beauty was easily dwarfed by her poise. While some women were vain about their appearance, she was simply confident. She didn’t think too much about her looks, but not too little either.
I was so transfixed by her perfection I nearly failed to notice the waiter approach our table. “The lady will have the lasagna. I’ll take the chicken.” I handed over the menus and listened to his footsteps as he walked away.
“So, are you excited about your painting?”
I’d stopped thinking about it the second we left the museum. “Not much to be excited about.”
“You’ll have a masterpiece in your conference room. That’s a bold statement.”
“I make bold statements every day.”
The corner of her mouth rose in a smile. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.” Conversations with her never seemed stale. She didn’t ramble on like most people, choosing to get to the point and not drag her feet. There was nothing more obnoxious than listening to someone talk just to hear their own voice.
“Be careful, Cato.”
“I’m not afraid of anything.” I certainly wasn’t afraid of the truth.
“That man you shot in your driveway… Do you really think he deserved it?”
I hadn’t anticipated such an interesting question. I hadn’t anticipated her bluntness. None of my men would be dumb enough to question the validity of my decision. She obviously felt comfortable playing with fire. “Yes.”
“Why did you do it?”
“I have enemies in Russia. They infiltrated my security detail with one of their own. He was planted there to spy on me, to find any information that might be relevant. He was only there for ten days before my men caught on to his tricks. Once they shared their suspicions with me, I handled it.”
She suddenly turned timid and quiet, the beautiful blush in her cheeks fading to the color of snow. Her posture was still graceful, but it took on a cowering appearance, rigid like all her muscles were tightening at the same time. Her eyes remained focused on me, not blinking for so long, it seemed like she forgot how to blink at all.
“I could have had my men handle it for me, but I like to do the dirty work.”
She tilted her head down and grabbed a piece of bread from the basket. She placed it on the plate in front of her and tore off a piece. She dipped it in the dish of oil but didn’t place it in her mouth. It was the first time she’d fidgeted in my presence. “Does that happen a lot?”
“When you’re at the top of the food chain, everyone wants what you have. Some men are stupid enough to believe I can be overthrown. Those men aren’t executed in a merciless way. Those men are tortured first. Their families are tortured. Everything they love is ripped apart before I finally put them out of their misery.”