For Angelo(62)

Unfortunately, being the center of people’s attention was something rockstars were used to. Seemingly unaware of the way everyone they walked past was gawking at them, Dylan halted mid-stride, bent his head, and stole a kiss from Bree.

When he raised his head, he was deeply satisfied at the look in her eyes.

Good. He liked her looking like that every time they were in a new place. It was an effective way to warn men off his property.

“Now, we can go.” Releasing her waist, he took her hand and led her past an inner set of doors on the penthouse floor, which housed the various rooms of the executives making up Angelo Valencia’s board.

The conference room was directly across them, its glass walls revealing Lane seated, hands primly clasped on her lap, a look of torment on her face.

“Are you sure they’re in good terms?” Bree asked uneasily.

Beside Lane was Angelo Valencia, dressed in an immaculate cerulean suit that had been matched with a silver tie. He was every inch the powerful CEO, but it was the look of sinister pleasure on his face that gave Dylan pause.

That…and the fact that the Italian was currently involved in an activity so crass Dylan couldn’t reconcile it with what he knew of his friend. Why did the man have towers of cash in front of him?

“Dylan?”

He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Beats me, babe.” Tightening his hold on her hand, he pushed the doors open and together they stepped inside.

Lane’s head lifted just as Dylan drawled, “Did we have the misfortune to interrupt another roleplay—”

Lane squeaked in embarrassment.

But Angelo only smiled. “She wishes.” Setting the bills aside, he stood up and walked closer to greet the newcomers. “I’d shake hands with you, but unfortunately my hands are…” A self-deprecating shrug. “Because I’m filthy rich.”

Behind him, Lane moaned.

Angelo’s smile widened.

Ah. Dylan glanced at his fiancée, who still appeared lost. “He’s probably punishing her, babe.”

“Oh.” But she still didn’t get it.

“She’s afraid of rich people, rich places, anything that has to do with wealth, really,” Dylan explained. Pulling her forward, he introduced her to Lane, who had hastily come to her feet.

Stay calm, stay calm, you and Dylan planned this. Don’t let your stupid phobia ruin it.

She took a deep breath and pasted a bright smile on her face. “Hi.” She shook hands with the pretty brunette, who was clasped possessively to the rockstar’s side. “Dylan told me so much about you.” She felt inordinately proud for not stammering, and behind the couple, she saw Angelo smile at her. Good girl.

Oh my gosh, why did she always feel like wagging her tail when he was proud of her?

“Dylan’s told me about you, too,” Bree was sharing. She wrinkled her nose at Dylan, adding, “But he forgot to tell me you had, umm, a phobia.” She hesitated, wondering if she counted in that category.

Dylan chuckled at the look on Bree’s face. “Yes, babe, you unfortunately qualify. I think the minimum requirements of her phobia are…say, one million dollars in personal fortune?” He slanted a brow at Angelo.

The Italian tycoon nodded. “Just about that. I’ve been trying to convince her to raise her standards—”

Bree and the two men were doing their best to fight their grins off at Lane’s growing discomfort, but when Lane let out a squeak of dismay at Angelo’s words, everyone laughed.

“It’s not funny,” she protested, but their hilarity was infectious that a smile started to tug her lips. But as Angelo drew her back to her seat, she saw the mountain of cash in front of them – oh gosh, how much was it again – and her smile started to fade.

Dylan and Bree took the seats opposite her. Angelo reclaimed his seat…and reached for the uncounted bills again.

Lane winced. They were continuing with the punishment then.

“Can I ask what she’s being punished for?” Bree asked, who was half feeling sorry for the other girl…while her other half was threatening to burst into laughter again. The scene was just too cute, with Lane cringing like Angelo counting his money was the most evil thing ever done.

“She forgot…” Angelo paused.

Lane’s stomach dropped at the look Angelo slanted towards her. You do the honors, my Lane, those silvery eyes told her.

Sadist, she thought.

Angelo raised a brow.

Oh gosh. Knowing she would only be punished later on, she mumbled, “It’s because I forgot to…” She stopped, unable to get the words out. It was just so embarrassing. She looked pleadingly at Angelo.

But he only leaned back on his chair, as if enjoying a show.