Lyla grabbed her phone from Carlo’s car and picked up her bag from the ground, signaling for Carlo to follow.Carlo didn’t refuse, but instead of taking the elevator, he motioned for Lyla to lead him up the stairs. As they ascended, he trailed behind her, speaking in Italian on the phone, a language Lyla couldn’t understand. Concern crept over her—what if he was planning something dangerous against Jessica? At every landing, she turned her head slightly to observe his expression, searching for any sign of malice.Carlo, noticing her subtle movements, paused just before the next stairwell. He temporarily put his phone aside and, still in Italian, called out, "Hey, Lyla, will you be my girlfriend?"“Huh?” Lyla stopped and turned around, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Are you talking to me?"Seeing the confusion in her expression, Carlo realized she hadn’t understood. His lips curled into a mischievous smile as he switched to English, “Oh, I was just ordering food. Authentic Italian. I
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