I froze, my breath locking in my chest.
Little bunny.
That stupid nickname. The one I swore I hated, the one that had been echoing in my head all week even when I tried to forget.
My eyes widened as the second part sank in. On the house.
My head snapped up, and I stared at the champagne like it had turned into a bomb.
It wasn’t just any champagne. It wasn’t just any note.
This was his.
Emiliano Russo’s.
The realization hit me like ice water, sending a shiver down my spine even in the hot, crowded club.
Sophia leaned closer, curiosity painted across her face. “What does it say?” she asked, tilting her head to peek at the paper.
I swallowed hard, shoving the note down into my lap before she could read it. “Nothing. Just—uh, a welcome note or something.” My voice sounded weak even t
