ALEX DE LUCA
"You know how much I feel deprived of my favorite Foty’s love?"
Her voice broke through my focus. I glanced up from the stack of papers in front of me to see my daughter standing in the doorway, balancing a plate that looked one second away from crashing to the floor.
Dinner. I’d missed it again.
Family dinners are a hard rule in this house, but ever since the announcement of the mafia ball, things had been running on high alert.
Everyone’s clock was synced to chaos, and I am not taking any chances. I’d tightened security to an obsessive level. Even Silas had started raising an eyebrow at the drama and fuss I am creating.
"I'm your only Foty," I replied dryly, pulling off my glasses.
Internally, I winced at the nickname. Still Foty? Really? I deserved something cooler now. Maybe next year.
"How many women are you planning to charm with those glasses?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in.