When the convoy that picked them from the airport finally parked in front of the Moretti mansion, Luca came out of the car first, adjusted his coat and turned to Isabella out of the car. She refused his hand coldly, walking past him with the poise and grace of a newly crowned queen.
Riccardo was waiting at the top of the steps with folded arms and a look of irritation on his face. His only greeting to them…or what he must have meant as a greeting…was nothing but a single, unimpressed grunt.
“So you’re back again,” he said coldly, glaring at Isabella’s presence beside Luca.
Isabella returned a slow and disrespectful head to toe look back to him. “And you’re still alive. Impressive.”
Riccardo’s face tightened instantly, immediately taking offense at the bold shot.
Luca saw the exchange
