18. Stefania

Davide crosses his arms, narrows his eyes at me, and shakes his head. "Absolutely fucking not."

I stare at him, my mouth hanging open, and try to process. Two hours ago, I was floating on the clouds, happy as can be, already planning my new future super cute business wardrobe. This whole permission thing was just a formality in my mind, another box to check on the way to getting my shit together.

Instead, he's staring at me like I just punched myself in the chest and ripped out my still-beating heart.

"What do you mean? Your mom thinks it would be fine and I don't want to sit around the house all day anymore. I need a job, Davide."

He grunts and shakes his head. "That is not for my mother to decide. I said no and there's no discussing it." He walks away, pushes out the back door, and disappears into the back yard.

There's no discussing it. Hell-fucking-no. He did not just give me that stupid my-word-is-final bullshit and storm off, because there is no way I'm going to let this go.

I chase after him. He's standing in the patch of grass bordering the landscaped flower beds with a beer in his hand. He slugs some back and glares at me when I get right in front of him and force him to pay attention to me.

"Explain why not." I cross my arms and match his posture. If he wants to be a defensive, controlling prick, then I'll make his life as hard as I can.

"I don't have to. You can't get a job right now."

Alarm bells blare in my head. Klaxons whirl, guards blow whistles, angry dogs bark. My brain's in red alert. "I'm sorry, I guess I forgot we weren't in a partnership and suddenly your dick made you the king of this household."

"Glad you figured it out, dolcezza."

I'm tempted to knee him right in his kingly balls but resist the urge. That didn't work out great for me the first time.

"I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you've had a bad day and you have a good reason for saying no. So here's your second chance, and there won't be another. Why are you saying no?"

His eyes narrow. He's thinking, the little hamster-wheel brain of his spinning along, and I'm seriously seething. I thought this was a rubber-stamp situation and I wouldn't have to worry about him getting all caveman on me. Instead, he's glaring like he wants to grab me by the hair and drag me back to his lair so he can tie me down to a stone tablet and sacrifice me to his weird elder god or something.

"Life is unsettled at the moment," he says, which doesn't exactly shine a whole lot of clarity on the situation. "My mother shouldn't have gotten your hopes up. Maybe it'll be different in a few weeks, but right now it just isn't possible. And I'm not going to keep discussing it."

My hands turn into fists. I feel my blood pressure numbers ticking steadily upwards. I thought I got lucky—so far, he's been kind, almost gentle, if a little distant and brooding—and obviously he's willing to build me walls indoors, but sure as hell isn't going to let me anywhere near the outside.

"I can't leave this block without guards," I say, struggling to keep my tone composed. "When I go for a walk, there are at least three or four people watching me at all times. Even inside my own house, I feel like I barely have any privacy, and I know you built me those rooms, but come on. Now I'm finding out that I can't even get a job at one of your own family's businesses for some vague reason you won't elaborate on. I know you don't give a shit, but try to look past your own self for ten seconds."

His jaw works and he's as pissed as I am now. Good, I want him mad. I want to say more. I want to hurt him. And that's not a useful feeling to have, I'm aware of how petty and immature it makes me, but it's the truth. He's hurting me, and I want to lash out.

"I told you no already. I gave you my reasoning, whether you like it or not. I came out here to get space and fresh air, and if you're going to insist on making things harder for me, then I'll go somewhere else."

I laugh in his face, because fuck that. "Must be nice. You can come and go as you please. No, don't worry, I'll go up to my little library cage and stay there, since that's where you like me. Asshole." I turn around and stomp back inside before he can answer.

By the time I get upstairs, I'm starting to think I overreacted a little bit. I mean, his mother did say that things with the Famiglia weren't stable, and he did mention some kind of problem with a guy he called Uncle Luciano. He hasn't gone into details, but even I can admit those aren't really my business.

Except he's not saying that's the problem. He wants to lay down the law without having to explain himself, and screw that, I don't want to be married to some idiot that can't have a conversation, especially an important one about my freaking future.

I slump down into my chair and stare up at the ceiling, a headache forming right between my eyes.