Alpha Lorenzo
I frowned even more.
Men and their sexist rules.
"We don’t have to eat food from the chef here. We can order pizza. I... well, my cooking could poison you, but..."
"I’d die happy eating whatever poison you made...." He laughed, kissing my nose and teasing me.
I huffed, pretending to be annoyed, but I could tell Lorenzo was plotting something.
"I’m not just placing the order. I’m also betting on my favorite horse in today’s race, and just by coincidence, the King’s Beta will be visiting the club because he sponsors a prized thoroughbred."