AYLA
I called Sophia. I couldn't think of leaving Arthuro with anyone else right now—not when everything was happening in a disconcerting way.
The attack on Cassian Moretti.
Paul's findings.
Kane Vashawn's threat this morning.
And every attempt to reach Gianna was going into voicemail.
I cursed under my breath.
That wasn't Gianna at all.
She was always reachable—always online, always knowing the next gossip trend.
But somehow, I couldn't reach her.
The moment Sophia arrived, I grabbed my bag and car keys and left.
I turned sharply as the traffic light ahead turned green.
I dialled Gianna.
"Welcome to Gianna's assistant and voicemail. Please leave a—"
For the umpteenth time, my call went into voicemail.
A tight pressure built behind my ribs.
Another horn blared behind me.
My pulse jumped.
Another driver sped past, angry, inaudible curses locked outside the car window.
I exhaled hard, then pulled by the side of the road.
I turned off the ignition.
