ANDREA
I angrily mash the button, flipping through the channels on the hotel room’s TV. A simmering rage still courses through my bones from Stefano indirectly kicking me out of his apartment. I can’t believe he did that - the worst part is I felt more heartbroken than angry, and I hate that. I f*****g hate feeling this way.
The shrill ringing of my phone snaps me out of my murderous thoughts about Stefano. I pull the phone from where it’s wedged under my thigh and check the caller ID. My blood runs cold the second I see my father’s name on the screen. A million questions race through my mind. Why is he calling now? He never calls, only sends the occasional curt text. Dread settles like a lead weight in the pit of my stomach as I slowly, reluctantly, answer.
The shrill ringing of my pho
