The sound of soft voices pulled Enzo out of his sleep.
He blinked and sat up, frowning.
Murmuring?
He grabbed his phone from the nightstand—too early for noise.
With a sigh, he got out of bed and walked to the door of his room. The murmuring grew louder.
He opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
The voices were coming from the sitting room.
He walked faster now.
As soon as he stepped in, he saw all four of his girls standing close to the TV, their backs turned to him.
They didn't even notice him come in.
"What's going on?" Enzo asked, voice rough with sleep.
No one answered.
He stepped forward—and then he saw it.
Dawson. Sitting on a studio chair, wearing a dark shirt, smiling confidently.
A live interview.
The interviewer leaned forward, speaking clearly.
"Mr. Dawson, who's the young lady you brought to the party a few days ago? Who is she to you?"
Enzo's eyes narrowed.
Dawson smiled.
"Oh, she's my wife-to-be."
The interviewer looked shocked.
