That was one of the first things Everett had admired about her. Celeste Monroe never entered anywhere like a guest. She had built a luxury lifestyle brand from her family name and a talent for turning charity galas into social currency. She was beautiful, precise, and allergic to embarrassment.
Today, she wore black.
Not mourning.
Strategy.
“Everett,” she said, closing the door. “This morning was unacceptable.”
He studied her.
A year ago, he would have admired the control in her voice.