Cara's pov
My leg tapped restlessly against the cold, hard floor, as strategies that would make every spy movie jealous swirled around in my head. My thumb mindlessly moved to my lips and I stopped myself just before I attacked the newly painted cuticle.
I was pacing the Salvatores’ foyer, ignoring the curious look Antonio, the Salvatores’ butler, was giving me. I focused on preparing myself for my mother's cursed luncheon and plotting the most efficient Luca-free routes in the mansion.
I couldn't run into him today. And if I do, I've prepared a box knife sitting readily in my clutch purse, waiting for me to slit my neck if the need arises.
“Is there anything I could help you with Signorina Cara?”
I whirled around to face him, “Antonio.”
“Yes, Signorina Cara?”
“Does Luca- I mean
