“I completely understand your frustration, Mr. Spada, we simply can’t—”
Massimo’s hand shoots out, and his fingers wrap around King’s throat. “I don’t think you understand,” he growls as he pulls the man toward him.
Grabbing Massimo’s knee, I give it a little squeeze. “Maybe they could push it a bit and get it done in a month. Would that work?”
Massimo’s hold on the consultant’s neck loosens, but he doesn’t release him. “No. The Council meeting is scheduled for Thursday evening.”
“Then, we’ll have the workers overhaul the ground floor first so it will be finished by Wednesday night.” I shift my focus to Mr. King. “Is that doable?”
The poor man is tugging on Massimo’s thick wrist with both of his hands, trying to free himself, while his eyes flit between me and Massimo. “Absolutely. No
