POV: EVE
Eve woke to an empty bed and the sound of voices drifting from somewhere in the penthouse.
She sat up slowly, her body still tender from the weekend's activities, and checked the time. Nine AM. She'd slept for almost fifteen hours straight.
The bedroom door was cracked open, and she could hear movement. Footsteps. Low conversation in Italian.
Italian?
Dimitri spoke Italian when he was on business calls, but this sounded different. Softer. Almost... domestic.
Curious, she grabbed one of his shirts from the closet, pulled it on over her naked body, and padded barefoot toward the sound.
The voices were coming from the kitchen.
She stopped in the doorway, frozen by the scene in front of her.
The kitchen was full of people.
