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“Mr. Moretti,” she snapped, her tone turning cold and clipped. “You’ve eaten. You can go now. I won’t be dropping you off.”

Lorenzo took his time chewing another bite, like her words barely registered. When he finally spoke, there was a teasing lilt in his voice. “Trying to kick me out already?”

She raised a brow, deadpan. “Were my words unclear?”

Instead of answering, he reached into his pocket. “Wait a second.”

She watched warily as he pulled out a small velvet box and placed it on the table between them. With a flick of his thumb, it popped open.

A diamond ring sparkled under the morning light—easily worth more than most people made in a year.

“I got you a little something,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “A thank-you… for breakfast.”

Krystal didn’t even blink. She looked at the ring, then back at him with a withering stare. “You callthata gift?”

His grin widened. He looked far too proud of himself. “Also,” he added, leaning back in his chair with an infuriating calm, “I’m thinking of moving into the apartment across from yours.”

Her face froze. “What?!”

Lorenzo nodded seriously. “I’m not a fan of living alone. I’ve started cooking, but I make too much food. So I figured, since you’re right next door, maybe you could help me finish it.”

He gave her an innocent shrug. “Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Three meals a day. You know—neighborly bonding.”

Krystal gaped at him, gripping the edge of the table. “You’re saying I have to eat your food three times a day now?”

“Isn’t that what good neighbors do?” he replied earnestly. “Help each other?”

She narrowed her eyes, the burn in her glare intensifying. “What kind ofshamelessneighbor uses his cooking skills to torture the woman next door?”

He tapped his chin like he was considering that seriously. “Don’t worry. I’ll come over and eat atyourplace too. Fair exchange.”

She stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “Why don’t you just move into my apartment and pay me rent while you’re at it?”

His eyes lit up, completely serious. “Can I?”

That did it.

Without a word, she stood, grabbed his arm, yanked him out of the chair, and dragged him toward the door. “Out. Now!”

He stumbled after her, not even trying to resist.

“Wait, Krystal—this ring—”

“Take it back!” she snapped, thrusting the velvet box into his hands and practically shoving him out.

The door slammed behind him with a thunderous thud.

Silence fell.

Krystal stood there, her back against the door, chest rising and falling in exasperation. She stared at the wood in front of her, eyes wide with disbelief.

Then she muttered under her breath, “Should I tell Xander to hire a shaman to bring Lorenzo’s soul back? Maybe they can bring Lorenzo’s soul back from whatever planet he’s living on.”

She let out a helpless groan and slid down to the floor, burying her face in her hands.

***

The CEO office of Velare Hotel Headquarters was unusually quiet.