Livia lingered over her single slice of pizza while Paolo made quick work of his boxful.
“Here, give me the box,” she said when he’d finished, “and you can go wash your hands if you need. The cloakroom’s by the front door, but you probably already know that.” Livia was alluding to the fact that he had visited before, where his intentions had been far more sinister.
Paolo did as suggested, while Livia took the pizza debris to the kitchen. When he returned, she was standing by the closed kitchen door. She beckoned him back to the sofa. In control.