“That soon, huh?” She lifted a brow at the guard before looking back at me. “What is it with you kids getting married so young? I’m not knocking it, just curious.”

“I’m not getting married in November,” I assured her. “We’re still working on the date, but I told Ryan I refuse to be a teen bride.”

Something darkened in her eyes as they met mine, and not for the first time, I got the weird feeling that she could see all the way to my soul. It made me feel exposed, vulnerable. “Just do what feels right, Nova. Marry him today or a decade from today. As long as you are happy, fuck everything else.”

I was saved from having to reply to that loaded advice by the receptionist informing Emmie that they were ready for Rossi. It was only then that I spotted the second Italian rocker sitting on an ottoman in a back corner, Rodger and Marcus on either side of him. In their suits, and with all of Rossi’s ink and him dressed in tattered jeans and a T-shirt that was so full of holes I doubted Goodwill would even accept it, they could have been two FBI agents transporting a convict. All that was missing was Rossi in handcuffs.

Emmie motioned Rossi up, and he slowly stood. Moments later, the elevator off to my left opened. Park Min Gi and his translator stepped off. There was no time for pleasantries as Emmie rushed us inside the elevator and up for the interview.

The rest of the morning was exhaustingly busy. By lunchtime, I was feeling the effects of skipping breakfast. Everyone could hear my complaining stomach, and Pietro grew tenser each time it grumbled. When we were rushed from one location to another with no talk of stopping for lunch, the guard pulled out his phone and started texting.

Not wanting him to concern Ryan, I touched the guard’s arm. “I’m okay. Really.”

“Nardo is bringing you food,” he informed me, pocketing the phone.

I was too hungry to argue. In an attempt to distract myself from the emptiness of my stomach, I focused on work. Most of the interviews were on-air, and because I was translating, that meant I had to speak into a microphone just like the rockers did. I’d only listened to a few of the interviews online, but I had to admit it was exciting to know that millions of people were listening to me.

We were sitting in a recording room with the producers in another room, visible through a glass window. Emmie was in there with them, listening and advising me whenever I glanced at her to see if the rockers could answer a particular question. Pietro had been with me the entire time, and considering I’d had to translate for all three rockers at this location, I’d already been in there for close to an hour. Thankfully, Garik was the last to interview, and I was hopeful it would be over soon.