The doorbell rang again, cutting through the soft hum of laughter as everyone exchanged knowing glances. Francesco groaned, running a hand over his face.
"I am in trouble!"
"Let me guess," Rizi drawled, lounging back on the couch, "another jet full of drama just landed."
Zack chuckled, shaking his head as he moved toward the door. "I'll handle it."
He opened the door to reveal Arlette, standing there with her arms crossed and a ice blue eyes full of glare that could cut through steel. Her platinum blonde hair was slightly tousled from the rush, but it only made her look fiercer.
"Francesco Russo!" she snapped, storming inside without waiting for an invitation. "You flew out of the city in Jason's private jet without telling me? What were you thinking?"
Francesco stiffened, sinking lower into his seat like a guilty child caught stealing cookies. "Arlette, cara mia, it was—"
