Musings

Mikael’s POV

“G’night daddy.”

The tension buried in my spine bled out from me and it was all too easy to muster up a smile as Dante hugged me, and ran to Madden to do the same. Ashford followed in his brother’s footsteps and the nanny led them away from the living room.

As soon as they were gone from sight I ordered the maid, “Bring me the Macallan on my desk.”

“You should drink less, Serrano,” Madden’s tone was chiding and I showed him my middle finger.

“Non me ne frega un cazzo,” i shot back with, rolling my eyes.

Within minutes I was sipping slowly at a small shot of whiskey, thinking of how badly the day turned out.

That bitch had stirred up trouble again. Cleo fucking Abrams.

“I’ll kill her one day. She’s more trouble than she’s worth,” I mused aloud, my Italian accent thicker than usual. I was exhausted to say the least, a far cry from the relaxation I expected this day off work to be for me.

Fuck my life, I thought, taking a large gulp of the whiskey, adding another kindling to