First message
She’d watched the whole situation unfold for exactly one day.
Her son had been pacing his office for the past hour, letting out a frustrated sigh every few seconds.
She got up, threw open the doors, and walked in. No knocking, no introduction.
“Dante Saverio Amato! Stop pacing! You’re making me dizzy!” she shouted.
He flinched.
“Ma.”
“Dante,” she said sweetly, settling onto the couch. “Why did you bring that poor woman here? She’s either going to die of boredom or run away because of that attitude of yours.”
A muscle twitched in Dante’s jaw.