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The Italian glanced at him sideways and shook his head.

"It's not the right time. If I go into the bathroom with you, we might not come out for the rest of the day..."

"Fine, your loss..." she said, disappearing behind the bathroom door.

She reappeared in the living room holding Giulian’s hand, who proudly hugged and kissed her cheeks while defiantly staring at Thomas Won.

The man looked at the Italian with envy. He merely gave a grim smile and occasionally glanced at the Japanese man, who remained seated in the room, now drinking another beer. He seemed calm and indifferent to the Italian's provocations.

"It’s just a façade. Tanarro is more than just Sotomayor’s cousin— I can tell by the way they look at each other."

He didn’t say much. Sotomayor sat on the large couch, and beside her, the Italian kept pampering her and treating her affectionately, making it quite clear what kind of relationship they had. Yukio couldn’t stand the tension between the men, who kept glaring at each othe