CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT

I want to kill Raquel Whittle.

The idiot is sitting on the couch filing her nails like her fiancee isn't bawling his eyes out after I gave him the news about his mother.

I know it's only an engagement of convenience, but damn, she can show at least some compassion.

Technically, he's the hand that feeds her, so she could've rubbed his back or something.

Phoebe sits next to him, her eyes also full of tears as she tries to soothe him.

"She's probably in Germany already." I try to keep my voice soft, but the truth is I'm not good at this either. "Thomas said you can fly out to be by her side if you want."

Dario nods through his tears, and even my dead heart squeezes at the sight of this man so undone. How is Alessandro taking it? He saw his mother almost dead, and then he had to send her away to continue looking for his father.

If he'd only just let me talk to him myself.

"Do you want to go with Dario to Germany, Raquel?" I try to keep my voice even as I look at the posh rat.

She