DOMINIC
I slouched on the couch with a whiskey glass dangling from my hand, the ice clinking softly against the rim, and my eyes drifted between the muted fashion show on the TV and the call I was barely paying attention to.
“Can’t we get on that cover?” I muttered into the phone. “What’s Mike saying about it? My girls are—”
The door swung open before I could finish. Vivienne walked in, her heels striking the floor in quick, clipped steps. Her face was tight, lips pressed together, and brows drawn into a sharp V.
I didn’t need her to say anything because I could already tell I was in trouble.
With a flick of my wrist, I ended the call and dropped the phone onto the armrest. I leaned forward, elbows braced against my knees, and let out a long breath before meeting her eyes.
“What is i
