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It wasn’t until we got into his car that he offered a low explanation.
“Don’t listen to those bastards running their mouths. Mia is a dancer at my club. She got into some trouble, and as Capo, I sorted it out for her. It’s just business.”
I just hummed in reply, leaning against the car window without another word.
Julian’s temper suddenly flared. “You don’t believe me? You’re still giving me the cold shoulder, aren’t you?”
“Serafina… for the last six months, I’ve come home to you every single night. What more do you want from me?”
I watched the streetlights blur past the window and said flatly, “I believe you.”
“I just didn’t think the injury was a big deal, and I didn’t want to distract you. Let’s go back to the estate.”
The reply was perfect but completely soulless, like a pre-recorded message.
Julian slammed his fist against the steering wheel.
The blaring horn pierced the night, startling a group of dancers who had just stepped out of the club’s back door across the street.
One of them looked up and stared in our direction.
The moment the streetlight hit her face, the air inside the car froze.
“Mia… what is she doing here?” Julian instinctively looked at me. After all, in the past, I would have lost my mind right then and there every time we ran into this woman.
