Back at the house, Delyan poked his head into the living room. A movie played on the large flat screen TV. Shortie sat cross-legged on a cushion, whilst Iman perched above her on the window seat, braiding her hair. Thankfully, there was no sign of either Bibiana or Nick. Across the room, Charlie lay on the couch under a mohair throw blanket, her hair strewn across the pillow.

Delyan greeted her. "Settled in, okay?"

Charlie nodded and pulled herself up on the sofa. As the blanket slipped off her shoulders, he averted his gaze. She was wearing a light pink spaghetti strap top, showing a lacy bra strap and more skin than he'd been prepared for. She was living with them now, and with Violet arriving soon, he'd need to think about that.

"Hey, can you come in for a moment, D?" Shortie asked.

He stepped into the room. "What is it?"

"How was your date with Nicholas this morning?" Iman intercepted like a mischievous elf.

Delyan rolled his eyes.

"Just kidding. How'd you go today?" Iman asked.

"Good. They got what they needed right away." The lie rolled off his tongue with ease.

Iman turned to Charlie. "Delyan was shooting with Tyson Ballou and Kaia Gerber at Lake Como today."

"Oh wow. Who for?" Charlie pointed the remote at the movie and pressed pause.

"ASOS. Their fall/winter Topman collection." Delyan hovered, unsure if he should sit down.

"Was it fun?" Charlie asked.

"Fuck no!" he responded. "It was work."

Charlie beamed at him—she had the kind of smile that could floor a man.

"What's up with B?" Shortie interrupted. "She said you had a fight."

Delyan wrinkled his forehead. "I wouldn't say that."

"What then?" Shortie sounded edgy.

"Is she home?" he asked.

"No, she's gone out. She was distraught."

"That's strange," Delyan said. "She seemed fine when I left. What time was this?"

"A couple of hours ago," Shortie said. "She said she needed to walk and hasn't been back. I'm worried. She's not answering her phone."

Delyan sighed. Now was as good a time as any to talk to the girls about Bibiana. He scanned the space for a place to sit. Charlie shifted her legs, and he crossed the room to sit next to her on the couch. His gaze settled on Shortie and Iman.

"I think we might have a problem with B," he said. "I don't know if you've noticed, but she's not doing so well."

"Do you mean she's ano?" Shortie asked.

"Well, is she?" Delyan raised his eyebrows. "Do you know that for certain?"

"I know she's been in clinics before...when she was younger," Shortie said. "Carmen told me. But she thought she was over it."

Bibiana's sister Carmen had shared her room up until a week ago when she'd left for a job in Paris. If anyone knew the truth, it would be her.

"She has lost a lot of weight," Iman said. "Even in the few weeks I've been here. And she's exercising heaps."

"She eats quite a bit for a skinny girl," Shortie said. "I've seen her."

Delyan rubbed his forehead. "I think she's purging. I've been hearing something through my wall."

For the first time since he'd started the conversation, Delyan looked over at Charlie.

"I'm sorry about this," he said. "I don't want you to think I hid something from you. I don't know the extent of the problem."

Charlie shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first girl I shared a room with that had an eating disorder. Besides, she might have it under control. Sometimes models purge to reach a goal weight and then stop. It doesn't have to be serious."

While he appreciated Charlie's forbearance, Delyan didn't think she was right.

"I think we're beyond that with B," he said, stopping short of mentioning the guy he'd seen on CCTV. The last thing he needed was for the girls to freak out, thinking he was spying on them.

"I'm sad for her," Shortie said. "Such a stunning girl."

"She really is," Charlie agreed. "She must have low self-esteem."

"If low self-esteem is a euphemism for being a bitch," Iman said.

Shortie laughed. "Ease up, girl. It's not her fault she's grumpy."

"She must be hungry," Charlie said.

"More like hangry." Iman huffed. "She totally bit my head off this morning over nothing."

"Did you borrow her coat again without asking?" Shortie chuckled.

"No! I did not! I wouldn't dare."

Delyan moved to stop the conversation. He got the impression Bibiana was deeply unhappy, perhaps even dangerously ill.

"Listen, I just thought you all should know I've spoken to her," he said, turning toward Charlie. "If it gets difficult sharing a room, please let me know. It's brutal out there in fashion week for rentals. I'd prefer not to ask her to leave right now, but I will if I must."

"I understand," Charlie said. "Thanks for telling us. I'll keep an eye out."

Delyan felt relieved. With that out of the way, he could relax. He was pleased to be home and that neither of his two least favorite housemates were there.

"What are you watching?" he asked.

"The Hating Game," Shortie replied.

"Romance, I'm guessing?"

"Yeah... join us?" Charlie said sweetly.

He would have loved nothing more than to curl up on the couch with Charlie, but Iman burst out laughing.

"This one... he's a total weeb. He literally watches nothing but anime. He's like a small child!"

"Because this is so mature..." Delyan mocked, pointing at the screen. The television was frozen on an unflattering picture of the main male character seated at an office desk.

"Is that Ryan Reynolds?"

"See what I mean!" Iman cracked up.

Delyan reluctantly pushed the blanket aside and stood up. "I'll leave you kids to it."

"You're going to bed already?" Shortie asked.

Delyan crossed the room. "Yeah. I'm beat. I'm going to eat something first."

Charlie pressed play on the movie, and the Ryan Reynolds look-alike started typing on a laptop.

"Hey D?" Shortie's voice was high-pitched and whiny. "Can you put the kettle on if you're going to the kitchen?"

"Noodles?" he muttered.

"Would you?"

"Hey... I never said..."

"You're the best!"

Delyan rolled his eyes. "I'll put the water in, but you do the rest!"

"What a gentleman!" Shortie gushed. "You are such a gorgeous man."

Iman looked at Charlie. "That's sarcasm in case you missed it. D's not big on helping. Get used to it. The boy won't change."

"I can hear you," Delyan laughed inwardly.

"I meant you to!"

Charlie pulled the blanket up to her chin. Delyan decided against responding to the teasing.

"Good night," he said somewhat vaguely to no one in particular. He turned his back on the room and left.

"Night!" they all chorused.

When he returned to his room, Delyan lay on his back across the bed, feeling happier than he'd felt since arriving in Milan. Charlie had wanted him to stay and watch the movie with them. He wondered if she was as attracted to him as he was to her.

Probably.

In his experience, women often fell for him before they knew him. But mutual attraction wasn't the same as closing the deal. He'd learned this young. At age ten, he'd had the biggest crush on a girl named Heike, who couldn't stop making eyes with him. It didn't work out. Heike's parents wouldn't let her play with the 'houso' kid. Ever since, he'd been doomed to hanker after forbidden fruit. You could say, beautiful Aryan women like Charlie were his type. Right then, he decided he wasn't going to let the fact she was living with them get in the way. He liked her too much and he never denied himself something good if he could help it. The first opportunity he had; he'd make a move.

As soon as he made up his mind about Charlie, Delyan's thoughts turned to Violet. She was never far from his mind—she was the only person he'd ever loved. Thank God she was so forgiving. Because of that, he was always open with her about sex with other people and did his best to be discreet. He had no intention of hurting her or embarrassing her family. Vi understood that sex was something he couldn't live without; it kept the black dog in its cage. She didn't seem threatened by it. Deep down, he suspected Vi knew she held the balance of power in their relationship. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her if she asked. Likewise, there was nothing she could ever do to make him feel differently about her.

He leaned his head back and reached for his phone.

A message from his agent had come through, congratulating him on the shoot. She'd included a quote from the photographer, praising his work and mentioning something about disrupting the industry. It was unexpected and felt good to hear. Since he'd quit drugs, compliments had taken on meaning, and lately, they were coming in thick and fast. He pressed the green dial button, eager to tell Vi about his day. She answered, and her lovely face, with its soft curls and smattering of freckles, filled the screen.

"Hi baby. What's happening?"

Vi smiled through the phone at him and started chatting at full throttle. Stripping down to his underwear, he pulled the covers over himself and let her musings soothe his tired soul. All the angst of the day melted away, and he wanted nothing more than to rest his head and listen to her stories until he fell asleep.