It was after that incident my mom managed to persuade Dad to let us have the tiniest sliver of freedom, especially whenever there was something that needed celebrating. She blamed Dante’s antics on being too cramped, too protected. If you asked me, even if we were given all the freedom in the world, Dante would still fuck up every chance he got. That was just the way he was—the wild horse.
“Well, look at you.” Dante came sauntering down the hallway just as I stepped out of my room.
I smiled as he pulled on his black suit jacket. “Speak for yourself. You look dashing, Mr. Valenti.”
He glanced down at the black sleeveless mini dress I was wearing. “Antonio is going to have a heart attack.”
“And why would I have a heart attack?” Antonio walked up behind Dante.
“Because Karina decided to wear half a dress.” Dante crossed his arms and smirked.
I glowered at him. “It’s not half a dress. It’s called a cocktail dress.”
“It’s called a cocktail dress because you look like tail for a lot of cocks when you’re wearing it.” Dante stepped in next to me and placed his arm around my shoulder.
“Ha, ha,” I scoffed. “That’s not even remotely funny.”
“Dante is right, Karina,” Antonio started. “I don’t want trouble tonight.”
“And you won’t get trouble just because I’m wearing a stupid dress.”
Antonio scowled. “If it’s a stupid dress, you won’t mind changing into another one, then.”
I glanced from Antonio to Dante. They could practically have been twins with their dark hair and dark eyes. You’d have to be a special kind of stupid to not realize they were brothers.
Antonio was slightly taller than Dante, and he carried himself with much more grace and poise. He had that same air of confidence around him, like our dad. He demanded everyone’s attention simply by walking into a room. From the outside looking in, it would be easy to spot who was the heir to the Valenti throne. Antonio was always impeccably well-groomed, with never a hair out of place, and always cleanly shaven. Basically, he was every Italian designer’s wet dream.
Now, Dante? Dante was what the world would call the bad boy. He was a little more muscular, and he wore his hair slightly longer, the tips touching his collar. Also, not nearly as high-strung as our older brother. Like now, for example. Antonio was wearing a black tie to compliment his perfectly pressed suit, while Dante had the first three buttons of his white dress shirt undone. He was much rougher around the edges…like Detective Stone.
Dammit. I had no idea why I’d thought of him. As quickly as that thought popped into my mind, I pushed it aside and glanced at Dante. “You had to stir shit about the dress, didn’t you?”
“I’m just looking out for my little sister.” Dante urged me to turn with him, his arm still on my shoulders. “I’m only kidding, little sister. You look gorgeous. Now, let’s go.”
“Thank you, Dante.” I smiled and placed my arm around his waist.
Dante glanced at Antonio. “And if we’re forced to kick some poor bastard’s ass for ogling hers, then we can tell Dad it was totally her fault.”
“Oh, my God.” I jabbed him in the side with my elbow. “You are such an ass.”
They both burst out laughing as we walked down the hallway, and I knew I was going to feel like a damn sardine between the two of them for the entire night.
We were about to head out the front door when my father came into the foyer, his dark gaze settling on me.
“Karina, may I have a word?”Like I have a choice.Lorenzo Valenti might let it sound like he was asking, but everyone knew he never asked. He demanded.
Dante removed his arm from my shoulder and nudged me forward. “We’ll wait for you in the car.”
Dammit.
While Dante and Antonio walked out the front door, I tried my best to glare holes in their heads, telepathically conveying the message I was extremely pissed off and I would have my revenge.
Dante winked at me as he closed the door behind him. I was pretty sure I’d never had such an overwhelming urge to beat the crap out of him as I did right at that moment.
Like a two-year-old, I stuck my tongue out at him, then heard my father clear his throat behind me.
It wasn’t like I didn’t want to speak to my father, it was just that I already knew what this was about. I’d been home for two days, and I had made it my life’s mission to avoid being alone with him since I knew this conversation was on his to-do list for some time now.
I turned and tried to muster the sweetest smile humanly possible. “Everything okay, Dad?”