Chiara
Dinner was a mess, and deep down, I was sure Amelia and Mother were fuming back home. I mean, Mother was literally boiling back at the mansion.
“That is perfect, we can work with that. And the other deal I mentioned?” Domenico spoke, his fingers typing crazily on his laptop.
One would think he was speaking to me, but no—he had AirPods in his ears. Ever since we slid into this car, it’s been one call to another with his eyes glued to his laptop.
Was he always this busy? I fidgeted with my hands while stealing glances at him. I wanted to thank him for speaking up for me back at the mansion, but it seemed impossible.
I sighed, turning to the window. This awkward silence was eating me up.
Suddenly, the car came to a halt. I blinked. We weren’t at the mansion yet, so why the sudden
