Alessio reached into his pocket to bring out his phone, the faint light from the screen casting eerie shadows across his sharp features. His expression was unreadable, but the sudden tension in his body was unmistakable.
The casual vibe he carried sometimes have been replaced with the strict mafia boss that he was.
The flashlight on his phone flickered on, illuminating the room in a harsh, pale glow. He turned it toward me, his eyes scanning my face briefly before moving to the corners of the darkened studio.
“Not bad,” I said, crossing my arms as I leaned against the easel. “A mansion this massive, and you’re resorting to a flashlight? Aren’t you supposed to be rolling in cash to get your electricity fixed?”
Alessio barely spared me a glance, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips
