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“I’m having a pre-show drink whilst my starring lady gets ready for her big entrance. No one is sulking.”

“If you say so,” he muttered, walking away from me.

Jeez, when did having a drink at ten in the morning become a crime?

At that moment, Dante came storming back into the bar, making a beeline straight for me.

“That woman,” he hissed, shaking his head.

“Mama’s ghost haunting you?” I asked.

“What? No,” he shook his head, giving me a funny look. “Fucking Rachel. God knows what’s pissed her off this morning, but I’m paying the price for it.”

His phone buzzed in his hand, and he looked down at it with a growl, furiously typing out a response. “Case in point,” he said, briefly shaking the phone at me.

“Let me see,” I said, reaching for the phone, only for him to pull it out of my reach.

“You’re not looking at my messages again, Vienna.”

“What a bizarre thing to lie about. Of course I’m going to look. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s happening.”

“I’m never listening to your advice again, anyway,” he shot back.

That was hurtful.

Okay, yes. I may or may not have convinced him once to buy Rachel flowers. But that was a normal thing for a man to give hiswife. How was I supposed to know she was going to take offence and throw them at him? I mean, yes, I had sprinkled them with sneezing powder, but that was a complete overreaction.

“She slapped me with those flowers, Vienna,” Dante growled, knowing exactly where my mind was going.

“And that was unfortunate. But all in all, it was a grand plan. I stand by that.”

“And I stand by the fact that you’re a disaster.”

“Stop being silly, Dante. Give me the phone.”

“No,” he snapped, pulling it out of my reach when I grabbed for it. “You want to talk about disrespect in this club? Look at yourself. Have you never heard of boundaries?”

“Boundaries? What are you talking about, boundaries? That's hurt my feelings, Dante.”

“I have a life outside of you, you know? I don’t have to share every moment.”

“And that's acceptable, but this,” I said, snatching the phone out of his hand and waving it at him. “This isn't a separate life. This is asecret. From your Vice President, no less! I raised you better than this. Boundaries,” I repeated, shaking my head at the ridiculousness.

And then I unlocked his screen with my fingerprint I'd added to his phone's security months ago.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered when he realised what I’d done.

“It’s for security, Dante. What if you were murdered, and the police had access to your phone? I’d like to think a decent friend would be willing to swoop in and delete your porn history before your fetishes became public knowledge. I’m that friend.”

“I’d like to delete you,” he said under his breath, but wisely realised the battle was over and left me to rifle through his phone, reading every message.

But what I read punched me in the gut.

“You’re arguing about me?” I asked, the humour slipping before I could stop it.

“Look—” he began.

“Why is Rachel so invested in Gabriella?” I demanded. “What am I missing here?”