Chapter 122 A Rabid Dog

• Tommaso looked up at her and leaned back slowly in his chair, crossing his arms as if bracing himself for another round of torment.
• “Let’s start with this: we’re not close enough for you to call me Tom,” he corrected immediately, his voice firm and heavy with seriousness. “To you, it’s Tommaso.”
• “Oh, don’t be so stiff, Tom,” Seraphina pressed, deliberately dragging out the nickname. “A man without a sense of humor is a waste,” she added, sauntering toward the desk with a cunning smile that betrayed her delight in goading him.