The whole situation had me in a pretty permanent foul mood. I wanted to spend time with Nikolai, to just see his face, hear his voice. I hoped it wouldn’t be too much longer before I saw him again. That night we fucked in the alley, that was great but like, I wanted more. Needed more. I ached for him.
Any other time and I’d work myself out of my funk physically but not today. Unfortunately it was almost time for dinner and my family were expecting me to dine with them.
When I passed Kaleb’s office, the door was firmly closed and the lights were off. I tested the handle and found it locked, as I had suspected it would be. I hoped that I would find a way in there, in private, sooner or later but I didn’t think I had the time to learn how to pick a lock.
Rosetta was clattering in the kitchen as I made my way down the stairs. I peeked through the doorway of the kitchen before walking across the hallway to the dining room. I had learned that Rosetta did all of the cooking and most of the housework. I’d noticed that she only worked here five days a week, the other two days were usually takeaways or meals out. Rachel and Kaleb hadn’t seemed too keen on cooking. She had been surprisingly easy to talk to, and chatty. She’d told me all about her small apartment in the city, her children were grown and moved out, so it was just her and her husband, Maurizio.
As I walked into the dining room I could’ve groaned immediately at the sight of Kaleb already sitting at the table. He looked up as I approached, the only indication that he’d actually noticed me and then went back to inspecting the rim of his empty wine glass. Rachel came up from behind me with an unopened bottle of wine in her hand.
“I got us a bottle of pinot noir from the cellar, Kaleb. You’ll like it too, Ana,” she said turning towards me. “It goes lovely with tomato-based sauces and, from what I can smell I think Rosetta is making her famous chicken parm.”
“Mmm, whatever it is it smells great.” I nodded, taking a seat opposite Kaleb. Kaleb sat at the head, Rachel at the opposite end, leaving Ambrose and I to stare bloody murder at each other all throughout dinner. During mealtimes, he usually tried his hardest to ignore me. Most of the time I had extended him the same courtesy.
Or rather, he ignored me all the time until he deigned to insult me or question something I was doing. I had no ill will towards him, I mostly just wished he would shut the hell up.
We chatted politely for a few minutes, despite everything I had heard them say just an hour before, but then Ambrose joined in and my part in the conversation ceased. Fortunately, Rosetta came in only a minute later, pushing a trolley full of plates. Rachel had been right. The plates Rosetta placed in front of me were laden with food — a larger portion than I thought any of us would manage.
The flattened and tenderised chicken breast was smothered in rich homemade marinara sauce, topped with mozzarella, sundried tomato and parmesan. It smelled great, as I’d come to expect from anything Rosetta whipped up. The steamed seasonal vegetables, vibrant greens and oranges, sat by a small serving of hand-cut fries.
“Looks amazing Rosetta, thank you,” Kaleb said as Rosetta placed his plate down in front of him. She smiled in thanks and patted his shoulder before moving on.
“You four enjoy now, can I get you anything else before you eat?” she asked, looking around the four of us. When no one said anything, she bid her goodbyes, wishing us a lovely evening. Her cheery disposition and the delicious-looking food didn’t stop my mood from being sour.
“Good night, Rosetta,” Rachel called from the other end of the table, as Rosetta retreated out and into the hallway again with a polite wave of acknowledgement.
I barely controlled my urge to roll my eyes. It was petty but I couldn’t look Kaleb or Rachel in the eye for the rest of the night. I barely spoke a word as their conversation flowed around bites of food. An occasional nod or one-word replay was about all I could manage.
I couldn’t believe they’d been questioning me, my abilities to take over for Kaleb. Here, I’d thought that I’d been doing a good job.
What were they going to do if I didn’t rise to their standards? It’s not like they could take back the arrangement between them and the Bellucci’s. Hmph. That put a small triumphant smirk on my face the rest of the night.
They were too far gone, they couldn’t back out now. They had no choice, despite their opinions.
“Look, Finch, it’s been nearly two days. You can’t put this off any longer. You need to start talking or get the fuck out.” I delivered the ultimatum with my arms crossed over my chest. He’d stalled for time, and I was sick of it. He needed to tell me what he knew, or he needed to stop trying to interfere.
Finch looked around the hotel room awkwardly, as if he were looking for another exit.
“Our dad was the one that hired Anton,” his confession burst out of him.
I shook my head, confused by the statement. He must have known that sounded insane, so he started to explain at the same time as I asked; “What? Back up, why? And how the fuck would you even know that?”
This vague accusation wasn’t exactly what I’d been
