Cristiano’s mood was black when he returned to his office. But another surprise was waiting for him. His father was waiting for him in his office.
“Come with me,” Vittorio said the moment Cristiano stepped in.
Cristiano’s jaw tightened. “Where?”
“You’ll see,” Vittorio replied smoothly, rising from the chair.
He didn’t explain further and led his son to his car. As the car pulled near Hunter’s club, Cristiano’s jaw tightened. He understood. His glare cut toward his father, but Vittorio only chuckled.
“I know you’ve been wound up,” Vittorio said, gesturing to the neon-drenched entrance. “The marriage, the new weight of leadership… it must be exhausting. So I brought you here.”
Inside, the air was heavy—dim lights flickered over leather booths, the musk of s*x and powdery bite of coca
