ee days, I made

, surrounded by sacks of flour. I studied until t

fectivel

ghost wa

wants to

kneading in the bakery kitchen. D

nder his eyes that no amount of money could hi

, wiping flour

ome," h

ou don't argue wi

used to walk a step behind him, admiring the bread

k of his head and wondered ho

air smelled heavy with stale c

t behind a massive mahogany desk. Bianca was pe

ed, a slow, predatory smile

Bianca said. "Th

" I asked, loo

stand near Bianca, crossing his ar

ice a deep baritone that vibrated through the room. "Funds missing f

. "I don't know an

't y

st the hardwood. "You're always around, aren't you? Listening. Watching. Maybe se

ndignation rising in my throat. "I use

ooked at Dante. "Are you going to l

d at Da

could say, She's honest. She's loya

his eyes, cold and unyielding. Bianca was the dau

said coldly. "You're here to ans

didn't stin

ed the woun

fied eve

ucio dead in the eye. "Check the cameras. Che

And stay out of the main house un

my heel an

t run t

alized that in their world, innocence was