Angelica’s POV:
The bed should be soft and warm, but it isn’t.
I roll out of bed and walk out of the bedroom. Reaching Anthony’s office, my fist lifted, and I knock on the door. “Come in,” his deep metallic voice drip in the silence.
Twisting the knob, I open the door and reveal a working Anthony. That’s all he had been doing, work. “What is it?” he asks, not once lifting his eyes from the papers. I never expect the mafia leader to be doing so much paperwork.
I stand outside the office, running my fingers down the sleeves of my shirt. “Are you not coming to bed?”
Finally, he raises his head. “You’re not asleep?”
“It’s...cold tonight,” I mumble, as his eyes scan my shorts. It’s a terrible lie, considering how warm it is inside the mansion that I’m able to wear shorts and walk
