“That’s Marianna,” I said plainly. “My cleaner. She comes once a week to get the place in order, and I do the rest myself. Let her go. Please.” Marianna shivered. “Who the fuck is this?” “Harlow, my husband,” I explained. “Shut up,” Harlow snapped at her. “Why are you naked around her? Did you fuck her?” “What? Did you expect me to be a virgin?” I asked, lifting a brow as I dumped last night’s words back into his lap.
