“You have to stop creeping up on people, Dandelion,” I tell her. She’s showered, wet hair braided on either side of her face. She’s wearing jeans and a close-fitting T-shirt with a pair of Chucks. No makeup on her face. She is stunning.

“I’m not creeping,” she says. “You two were so involved in whatever you’re looking at you didn’t hear me.”

She walks toward us, and Amadeo closes the laptop as we both stand. She looks at it, then at us. “Who had access to what?”

Amadeo looks her over and nods. “You look well rested.”

“Well fucked you mean.”

“Well fucked,” he says, smiling.

I watch the two of them. I’m not jealous, per se. I was, but it’s gone. But they have something I don’t. Those rings on their fingers.

When I shift my gaze to Vittoria, I see she’s watching me. I’m not sure if she’s conscious of the motion as she turns her wedding band around while holding my gaze.

“Once I sign the papers, I’ll fly home?”

“Home?” I ask, surprised.

She shakes her head like it was just a mistake. “To Italy. To get Emma.”

“To get her?” Amadeo asks.

She shifts her gaze to him. Her smile vanishes. “You said after I signed, you’d let us go.”

He said what? I look to my brother, curious about his answer.

Amadeo sighs. “I want to be sure you’re both safe, Vittoria.”

She shakes her head. “No. We had an agreement. You said you’d set us free after you get what you want.”

He said what?

“The shares, control of the company, all of my money, it’s yours. I have nothing else to give you.”

“When it’s time, I will set you free. You have my word.”

She snorts. “Your word means less and less. I’m going to get Emma, and we’re leaving. That’s the end of that.” She turns to walk away, but Amadeo goes after her, catching her arm, and spins her around.

“You’ll go when it’s safe. Not before.”

She tries to tug free, but he doesn’t let her go. “And who will decide when it’s safe? Let me guess. You?”

“Vittoria—”

“No. Dandelion. Just call me Dandelion.” She tries again to tug free.

“Vittoria.”

“What?” she snaps.

He touches her face, tilting her chin up so she looks at him, and I’m surprised at this gentle touch. This caring side of my brother that I rarely see. He’s only this caring with our mother, if I think about it.

“What?” she asks, tone a little quieter. I wonder if she’s affected by that tenderness.

But before he can answer, Bruno turns the corner, and the moment is gone.

“Time to go,” he announces. “There are two cars with guards downstairs.”

Vittoria takes the opportunity to break free.