"She called me a bitch," Lydia seethes. "And when I asked her to stop, she totally kept on swearing at me."

She glares at Cesare. If only he could read minds, he'd know about her fury, about how he can't expect her not to suspect these pretty girls who claim they're working for him are sleeping with him too. It's not fair that she looks like a psycho right now.

"I'm so not happy right now," she warns.