Seducing the Ice-Cold CEO

Chapter 11

Dante

I stared blankly at the Armstrong contract on my screen.

It was the final version after months of negotiation, back and forths, and more than a few headaches, all distilled into thirty-sixpages of legalese. I should’ve felt accomplished. This deal was a big one, an acquisition that was honestly a little personal to me. I blinked, realizing I hadn’t turned the page in five minutes. I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my eyes, exhaling through my nose. Damn it.

Leah Sparrow’s name had been flitting through my mind all morning like a mosquito; buzzing, irritating, impossible to ignore. She had no business occupying this much space in my head. The last time we had met, I had braced myself for another one of her clumsy attempts to flirt but instead, she had made a ridiculous excuse, looked mildly rattled by a few shopping bags, and bolted. She was confusing and persistent. I couldn’t decide if I was annoyed or impressed.

People tried to get close to me all the time. I knew the game well. They smiled too much, laughed too hard and lingered too long. They tried to dazzle and flatter me at the same time. I was sure Leah was no different. And yet, something about her execution baffled me.

Maybe it was her shamelessness. She didn’t exactly try to be subtle. I sighed and clicked to the next page of the document, only for my phone to start ringing. I glanced at the screen. It was Alina, my sister.

I debated not answering, but that would only mean getting the same call two more times, then an irritated voicemail, followed by a passive-aggressive text, and possibly a surprise drop-in. I accepted the call.

I barely had time to say, “Hello,” before the sound of crying filled my ear. Alina was already in full breakdown mode.

“I’m trying, Dante,” she sobbed, loud enough that I had to lower the phone from my ear slightly. “I’m trying to be a good mother, and all I get for it is Ivy screaming at me like I’m the villain in her life!”

I sighed and set aside the contract I had been attempting and failing to focus on. Leaning back in my chair, I stared up at the ceiling and softened my tone.

“What happened now?”

“She’s impossible!” Alina wailed. “I told her to take a break from shopping, just for one week. One! And she went ballistic! Started screaming about how I’m trying to control her and ruin her life. Me! I’m the one ruining her life!”

I could hear her pacing through the line, the familiar squeak of her heels on tile echoing behind her words. The sound brought back memories of when we were kids, and Alina would stomp around the house yelling about injustice whenever Dad told her no.

“She says I don’t support her dreams,” Alina sniffled. “What dreams? Going to brunch with trust fund babies who’ve been on the cover of Forbes while her own CV remains blank?”

A tired chuckle escaped me before I could stop it. “You know it’d take Ivy at least a thousand years to bleed this family dry, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Alina let out a wounded huff. “It’s not about the money, Dante. It’s the principle. She needs to grow up. Get real-world experience. She can’t float around on my name forever.”

“You’re not wrong,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” she grumbled. “You enable her half the time.”

“I do not—” I began, but Alina cut me off with a scoff.

“Oh, please. Do you think I don’t know she stashed that last shopping haul at your place? She wasn’t even subtle. One of the bags still had the tags from that boutique in Milan.”

I cleared my throat discreetly, accepting I had been caught. I had told Ivy she could keep them there for a few days. I hadn’t asked questions. She always found a way to dodge Alina’s wrath, and somehow, I always ended up being her safe house. Alina had a point, much as I hated to admit it. Ivy did need to start earning her way through the world, at least in some small, manageable way.

“That girl is impossible,” Alina sobbed in the wake of my silence. “She talks back to everyone, she’s always moody, she barely comes home on time, and she keeps asking if she can move in with you!”

“She says you don’t nag her,” Alina continued. “That you ‘get’ her. What does that even mean?”

“It means I’m not her mother,” I said mildly. “And she knows I won’t chase her around with a checklist.”

“Well, maybe if you did, she wouldn’t be like this! She thinks the sun shines out of your suit pockets.”

I didn’t respond. Arguing with Alina about Ivy was a never-ending loop, and I was already low on patience.

“I need a break,” she muttered. “Honestly. Just a weekend where no one’s slamming doors or accusing me of being a tyrant.”

“I’ll talk to her,” I promised. “I’ll find her an internship. Something decent. She’ll get that experience you want her to have.”

There was a sudden, miraculous silence on the line. Then, in a much perkier voice, Alina said, “Really? You’ll do that?”

I rolled my eyes, unseen. It was amazing how she was no longer weeping. “Yes.”

“So when does she start?”

I stifled a laugh. My sister sounded almost smug now, like a switch had flipped.

“Next week,” I said, though I hadn’t even begun to think about where I’d place Ivy yet. “You can tell her it’s non-negotiable.”

“I knew I could count on you,” she beamed. Before I could reply, the door to my office flew open with a bang. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Uncle Dante,” Ivy groaned as she stormed in, tossing herhandbag dramatically onto the nearest chair. “You will not believe what Mom just did.”

“I’ll call you back,” I spoke into the phone.

“She’s just so unreasonable,” Ivy moaned, already pacing. “All I wanted was to take that trip to Bali with Jules and Kira, and she went insane and started screaming about responsibility and entitlement.”

I hung up the call with Alina mid-rant and slipped the phone into my pocket. “You don’t say,” I said blandly.

“She didn’t just say no. She said no like I was asking her for a kidney!” Ivy flopped onto the arm of the couch dramatically, her dark curls bouncing with the motion. “And then she started lecturing me about being spoiled, again. Honestly, I think she’s just jealous I have more fun than she does.”

I fought back a smile. “Well, maybe she has a point.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Not you too.”

“Ivy,” I said, “it wouldn’t be the worst idea to try something new, something grounded.”

She eyed me warily. “Why do you sound like you’re about to pitch a TED Talk?”

“Because,” I said smoothly, “I’ve agreed to help you get an internship.”

Her mouth fell open. “You what? This is a trap! She got to you, didn’t she?”

As she began to try and argue her way out, I glanced briefly at my watch; it had taken Ivy less than thirty minutes to get here, way faster than last time. I should be charging both of them therapy fees.