Monday — December 17
Gael woke up at the sound of his phone's buzzing on the nightstand. He squinted as he checked the time. It was seven in the morning, and he had a few texts from his uncle. He carefully pulled his arm from under Angela's head and rolled to the side to read the messages.
[ Giovanni: I just landed. I'm heading over to your house. ]
[ Giovanni: I'm here. ]
[ Giovanni: Where the hell are you? ]
He cursed under his breath. Giovanni wasn't supposed to be here until days later.
[ Gael: Parklane Shores. ]
[ Giovanni: I'm at your house. We need to talk. ]
Exhaling a long sigh, Gael closed his eyes. Whatever they needed to talk about was always important.
Angela stirred as if she'd notice his tension. She turned to him and sleepily asked, "Who is it? Something important?"
