Rowan's phone dinged. He put his pencil down, expecting it to be Astrid. He already couldn't focus on his thesis, so he might as well take the distraction. Maybe she would want to get dinner or something?
It wasn't Astrid.
The phone number wasn't saved, but Rowan knew who it was. It was typed out in Italian, but it pretty much said, “Taking your girl to meet mother. Better show up or we kill her."
Rowan sat up in his chair and immediately called the number.
“Ah, brother. If I knew this was all it took to get your attention, I would have done it sooner," Claude answered, clearly pleased with himself.
“She doesn't know anything, Claude. Leave her alone," Rowan said firmly.
To that, Claude started laughing.
Rowan's eyebrows furrowed. “What's so funny?" his tone was biting.
“She do
