But Francia is overstepping by a f*****g mile. She’s trying to carve out a place for herself here. If she manages to do that, I’ll have no choice but to burn the house down once I’ve disposed of her. I do not intend to let anything of her linger once this s**t is all over.
“All design decisions go through Niles,” I lie.
Niles will hate me for sending Francia his way, but I’m more liable to strangle her with a curtain than choose a fabric color with her.
Her jaw sets, her already thin lips disappearing in an angry line. “Fine.”
I move to walk past her, but she shifts into my path again. “Also, I want to be introduced to the other Bratva wives.”
Unexpectedly, a laugh bursts out of me. Her eyes narrow and there isn’t a cough big enough to disguise the fact that I just cackled in her face
