His Forbidden Muse
“I can drive.”
“It’s not up for discussion.” Judas says glaring at her.
Papochka narrows his eyes. “And why this sudden arrangements?”
Judas flicks his gaze toward me. “Reasons.”
Papochka studies him, and Baboo slams his espresso cup down on the table, rattling every glass within reach and I know what is coming.
“No. No, no. Questo ragazzo, he starts again with secrets! You see? He keeps everything inside like a fucking Molotov cocktail. One day it will explode, Alexei, knock some senses into your son.”