It was the day after the rehearsal dinner when Tate went in to check on Poppy. He was probably one of Roman's best employees. He was strong, levelheaded, and most of all, caring. When he entered the room to give her lunch, he found her curled into a ball again, crying, pleading to be taken to the hospital. It didn't take the burly man but a few seconds to storm across the mansion, ready to see some heads roll. He had already warned if anything happened to her someone would be held responsible.
Barging into Roman's office he was furious. "Boss, we need to talk… Oh, Anton. Where's Roman?"
Anton looked up from Roman's desk, seemingly upset about something as well. "She's sick, isn't she? I saw on the monitors."
"I thought you don't care about her?" Tate grumbled. "You'd rather see that sweet girl dead."
