ADRIAN
The moment I stepped into the dining room and saw Tobias and Vito “passed out” on the table like two overgrown toddlers who’d lost a drinking contest, I knew exactly what Isabella had done.
And I also knew exactly what my men had pretended to do. The plates were untouched. The wine glasses were full. The maids were hovering too close, too alert.
And Tobias’s hand was suspiciously positioned near his gun, like he was ready to spring up at any second.
I exhaled through my nose.
“She drugged you?” I asked dryly.
Tobias didn’t move, blink or breathe. Vito snored. Loudly. Dramatically.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You two are terrible actors.”
Vito cracked one eye open. “We’re supposed to be unconscious.”
“Then stop snoring like a dying tractor.”
He shut his eye again.
I
