11
ROMI
“Another glass of…whatever that is?” Nico asked. “Orange juice?”
“Mango juice. Yes, please.”
At some point between the funeral and dinner, we’d lost Darla and Paulo but gained Nico, much to my relief and Davis’s disappointment. I quite liked Nico’s quiet confidence, but Davis had researched his background during our previous visit and found that not only had Nico inherited most of his wealth, he’d inherited it from a Russian father who was shady as f**k. Davis didn’t have much time for men who rode the family gravy train. He’d preferred Paulo for the entertainment value.
And Davis had grown even more irritated by Nico when he’d taken a seat on the other side of me and engaged me in small talk while we waited for Brooke to serve dinner. I’d offered to help in the kitchen becaus
