The next morning, breakfast was quiet.
Fernando had gone for an early meeting with a senator or a sultan… Lisa hadn’t been paying attention. When she asked about Rita, the Butler said she was allegedly upstairs, nursing a hangover that could knock out a small horse. That left Lisa at the long, glossy table alone… with Arthur and Rosalind.
Her worst nightmare. Lisa perched stiffly in her chair with her hands folded in her lap, keeping her gaze locked on the untouched croissant on her plate. Her stomach churned. She hadn’t slept. Not really. The couch had been too short, and Arthur's snoring was too loud.
Every time she closed her eyes, Hi’s words replayed in her head.
‘You got what you wanted. Play your part. Leave me the f**k alone.’
Right now, she was trying not to breathe too loud
