Chapter 7 - The Woman He Would Never Call Invisible Again
Three months later, Lucy entered Dante’s conference room carrying nothing.
No tray.
No coffee.
No feather duster.
She wore a charcoal business suit.
Her father was recovering slowly, living somewhere Bellini’s remaining associates could not find him.
Felix had cooperated with investigators.
Bellini’s network was dismantled.
The war with Levanov never happened.
And Lucy’s fifty-thousand-dollar debt?
It had disappeared the moment Dante discovered it had been fraudulent.
Enzo looked up from the conference table.
“Finally.”
Lucy frowned.
“I’m two minutes early.”
“Dante’s been asking for you.”
Dante appeared from his office.
“I asked once.”
“Four times,” Enzo said.
Dante looked at him.
Enzo suddenly became interested in paperwork.
Lucy smiled.
“What happened?”
Dante handed her a document.
French.
She read it.
Then looked up.
“You cannot sign this.”
“Why?”
“Clause fourteen.”
Dante groaned.
“What now?”
“They changed exclusive distribution rights to priority distribution consideration.”
Enzo blinked.
“Those sound like the same thing.”
Lucy and Dante answered together.
“They aren’t.”
Enzo sighed.
“I hate both of you.”
Lucy corrected the document.
The meeting began.
Russian.
French.
Spanish.
Italian.
For two hours, Lucy moved between languages while Dante negotiated.
Nobody ignored her.
Nobody looked through her.
When Lucy spoke, the entire table listened.
Afterward, the others left.
Dante remained beside the windows.
“You were right,” he said.
Lucy gathered her papers.
“That happens frequently.”
“Careful.”
“You hired me for accuracy.”
“I hired you because apparently everyone working for me is an idiot.”
“Except Enzo.”
Dante considered.
“Debatable.”
Lucy laughed.
He watched her.
Then his expression became more serious.
“I owe you something.”
“You already paid me.”
“Not money.”
Lucy waited.
“An apology.”
That surprised her.
“For what?”
“For allowing someone to turn my name into a weapon against you.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I should have.”
Lucy considered that.
“Accepted.”
Dante nodded.
“And something else.”
“Oh?”
He handed her an envelope.
Lucy opened it.
A contract.
DIRECTOR OF INTERNATIONAL NEGOTIATIONS.
Her salary made her read the number twice.
“Dante.”
“Too low?”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Good ridiculous?”
“Extremely.”
“Then sign.”
Lucy reached for a pen.
Stopped.
“Clause nine.”
Dante closed his eyes.
“What is wrong with clause nine?”
“It says I report directly to you.”
“You do.”
“Twenty-four-hour availability?”
“Necessary.”
“No.”
“Lucy.”
“Remove it.”
“Twenty hours.”
“Twelve.”
“Sixteen.”
“Fourteen.”
Dante held out his hand.
“Deal.”
Lucy shook it.
Neither released immediately.
Dante glanced at their hands.
“So this is the part where you tell me my grammar is terrible?”
“No.”
“That’s encouraging.”
“I was going to tell you your Russian is worse.”
He laughed.
Lucy finally released his hand.
Eight months earlier, she had stood in the corner of this house carrying coffee and praying nobody noticed her.
Now Dante Moretti crossed an entire conference room to hear what she had to say.
At the doorway, Lucy stopped.
“One more thing.”
Dante looked up.
“Yes?”
She spoke to him in flawless Russian.
His expression changed.
“What did you say?”
Lucy smiled.
“I said you still need lessons.”
Dante walked toward her.
“And your rate?”
“More than eleven dollars an hour.”
“Name it.”
“Dinner.”
He stopped.
“Dinner?”
“One.”
“With me?”
Lucy raised an eyebrow.
“You negotiate international shipping contracts faster than this.”
Dante smiled.
“Tonight. Eight.”
“Seven-thirty.”
“Lucy.”
“Seven-thirty.”
He shook his head.
“Fine.”
She opened the door.
Dante called after her.
“Lucy.”
She turned.
He spoke carefully in Russian.
This time, the sentence was perfect.
Lucy stared at him.
Then smiled.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“That look isn’t nothing.”
She stepped backward into the hallway.
“You finally got the syntax right.”
For a man who had inherited an empire, survived betrayal, and stopped a war before it began, Dante Moretti looked absurdly pleased with himself.
Lucy walked away laughing.
Behind her, Enzo appeared from the conference room.
“Boss?”
Dante watched Lucy disappear around the corner.
“Yes?”
“Should I arrange dinner security?”
Dante smiled.
“No.”
Enzo blinked.
“No?”
May you like
“I think Miss Warren has proven she can handle herself.”
And for the first time since Lucy Warren had entered the Moretti estate wearing a maid’s uniform, nobody called her invisible again.
