Amadeo swallowed back whatever he ate that seemed to rise to his throat and adjusted in his seat.
"So, you complained about my daughter, Vivian," he murmured. It wasn't a question, because he clearly already knew what she'd done.
I looked at him and raised a displeased brow. "Why haven't you done anything about it?"
"Like what?" He gave me a skeptical look, and my hard gaze cut him.
"Amadeo." I sounded so serious, the kind I never usually showed, not if I didn't want to scare off the people I worked with. He was startled, his eyes widening in shock, then narrowed slowly as if he were assessing me. "The one mistake you're going to make is going in a roundabout with me. Do you think I entertain the thought of being here, wasting my time?"