The Boss Vol. 6: a Hot Billionaire Romance by Cari Quinn, Taryn Elliott Page A

fumbled for her napkin. “All his balls are in danger the more you both keep talking.”
    Dante chuckled. “You have a feisty one on your hands, Blake.”
    Didn’t I know it.
    “Our fathers were best friends,” I said evenly to Grace. “Unfortunately, they also ended up dying the same way, via gunshot.”
    Grace reached for her wine and took a fortifying sip, the largest I’d seen her take all evening. “But you didn’t kill your father,” she said, darting a glance at me as if she wasn’t certain she could make that assertion.
    “Hardly. He was dead before I had the chance.”
    Dante chuckled again. “You see, tesoro mia, things operate differently in our world. We value loyalty above all else.”
    “Loyalty? Who is more loyal than family?”
    “Well, now, that depends on the family in question, does it not?” Dante leaned forward and spoke conspiratorially. At this time of night, the restaurant had mostly cleared out, and we were tucked away at a “table of honor” in the back for privacy’s sake. “In my case, my father had kidnapped the woman who is now my sister-in-law and the mother to my niece. He intended to murder her in cold blood. I saved her life.” He smiled thinly. “One might even call me a hero.”
    “One might, if the story told wasn’t slanted in your favor.”
    Dante’s thick dark brows knitted. “Oh, and I suppose you know the circumstances?”
    “No. I don’t. I’ve been quite unconcerned with the families and what they’re doing since my father died and I cut all ties with the lot of them.” I absorbed Grace’s shock without acknowledging it.
    Since I’d just basically admitted I’d been with the mob—albeit in a very distant way—I couldn’t say I blamed her.
    “You cut ties. Completely,” Grace said shakily.
    “Yes.”
    “When, exactly?”
    “I was twenty.”
    “And your father’s death prompted you to?”
    “More like gave me the option.” My father hadn’t died at that time. Close enough. I could move the timeline around a bit to suit my narrative, but it wouldn’t change facts.
    The main reason I’d been able to walk away was that I’d found a new way of bankrolling my fledgling company, one I’d started to construct even before I finished college. Without that source of funding, I never would have been able to make the break. Not if I wanted to keep my dream too.
    But, of course, I’d lost another dream by agreeing. Since at that time it had seemed as nebulous and impossible as the chance I could take my glass and build it into an empire, I hadn’t considered it a fair trade.
    I’d grieved, though. The years had softened the loss, erased the edges until they were indistinct.
    All it had taken to bring every jagged corner back to life was for Grace Copeland to walk into the office of the company I’d built with money that wasn’t mine.
    “And you,” Grace said, shifting her attention to Dante. “You never left. Not before your father…passed. Not now.”
    Dante’s smile was lethally charming. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to, tesoro mia. I’ve referenced loyalty and family. Bonds that can’t be severed by simply strolling away.” He glanced at me. “You realize that all debts come due. You might not pay today. Maybe not tomorrow. But as they say, there is no escaping the sins of the father.” His smile dimmed. “To our detriment, no?”
    His words didn’t send a chill through me. I knew they were likely a way to put me off from asking probing questions about my father’s associates. Questions he probably didn’t have the answers to anyway, unless he wanted to dig at no benefit to himself along with risking possible harm.
    The people who made up the family we were supposed to be “loyal” to didn’t appreciate snoops. Or friendly inquiries.
    Friends were just enemies who hadn’t yet woken up on the wrong side of the bed.
    “I’m not concerned. I’m my father’s son in a lot of ways. When the end comes, it’ll