Genevieve had been lying in bed tossing and turning for close to an hour when there was a knock on the door.
"Clint?” she said as she approached, wrapping a robe around her. She was a split second from opening it when she heard a drunk voice on the other end.
“You stupid cunt,” Raffalle slurred from the other side. “I ought to kill you. Do you know the trouble you’ve caused for this family? You owe him gratitude and whatever fucked-up shit he’s into for stepping in to save you.”
Genevieve backed away, stumbling over the foot of the bed in her attempt to get to the intercom.
A groggy Demetri answered when she pressed the button. “Yes, Miss Newton ?”
“Raffalle is outside my door, drunk,” she whispered.
Demetri became alert, and the touch of annoyance evaporated from his voice. “It’ll be taken care of.”
A few minutes later there was arguing on the other side of the door and then silence and then another knock. This time,Genevieve didn’t make a move, having learned that lesson—almo
