Fallon
We spent most of the day watching TV and sleeping. Leone never mentions last night, and I don’t mention it. But as the sun sank low and shadows danced upon the polished floors of Leone’s sprawling mansion, I could feel the tension coil in the room, as palpable as the thick cigar smoke clinging to Leone’s sharp suits. Leone sets a black pantsuit on the bed for me, and I glance at him. “Get ready. We are leaving to have dinner with my mother in half an hour,” Leone tells me just as Milo steps out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his hips. He heads into the walk-in robe while I start getting ready. It takes me about twenty minutes to get ready, and by that time, Leone’s entire demeanor has changed; he almost seems angry, making me wonder what is wrong with him.
He ushers us into
