Olivia tilted her head, confused and very, very drunk.
"Wait… what? What's happening? Are we roleplaying? Is this like a *bloody mafia-themed thing*? 'Cause I'm into it."
Dante, still looking amused, held up a single hand like a man about to order a very expensive drink:
"She was delightful company. Lovely taste in wine. Terrible taste in judgment."
"Dante," Alexander said, dead calm."Tell me she's joking."
Dante just shrugged, flashing that charming, unapologetic grin:
"I don't ask for last names in bed, amico."
Charlotte wanted to scream. Or faint. Or both...My best friend just accidentally slept with a literal mob prince. Amazing. Outstanding. Kill me now.
Olivia tried to walk toward Charlotte, tripped on the rug, caught herself, and grinned:
"Okay, but seriously—you and Alexander? *Finally?* It was about time. You guys have so much sexual tension I can't believe the hallway didn't catch fire."
"Liv." Charlotte hissed, absolutely mortified. "That man is a mob boss."
