I gave her a look.
She smiled sweetly.
I turned my attention back to the drink I hadn’t touched.
Juliette quietly watched me. When I didn’t speak, she gave up with a shrug. “Well, you and I both know he won’t stop calling. For now, I’ve instructed Elias to redirect his calls to your voicemail, but that won’t work for much longer. Now, I could take the next call myself…ask Dad what’s bothering you…see what he has to say. Out of sisterly affection, of course. Pure concern for your well-being.”
“Juliette,” I muttered.
“Hmm?” She raised a brow.
“Stop being annoying.”
“But how else would I get you to speak to me, dear brother?” she asked with a wink. “Well, if you’re just going to sit here and brood, then I’m going to go home and go to bed. One of us should get some rest, I suppose.”
She rose from her seat and smoothed down her jacket. “Good night, Lucien.”
“Good night,” I muttered.
My sister headed toward the door, but stopped short a few feet away, her wide eyes snapping to mine.
Yeah, I heard it too. The unmistakable click of stiletto heels marching toward my office, each step distinct. A sound Juliette and I both knew far too well.
Juliette winced sympathetically, as most did when my mother arrived anywhere unannounced.
“Good luck,” she muttered under her breath.
Then she opened the door, and Seraphina swept right in, dressed in silk and smelling of expensive perfume—as always.
I took a slow breath, bracing myself for the oncoming storm. I knew exactly why my mother was here, and I didn’t have the energy for it.
Seraphina spared me a glaring glance before turning her attention to Juliette—her eldest daughter. “Loitering in your brother’s office at this late an hour?”
“Or early,” Juliette said. “All depends on perspective, I suppose.”
My mother rolled her eyes. “I suppose I should just be grateful you aren’t setting fire to another suitor’s estate.”
“I did that once, Mother,” Juliette sniped. “Besides, I only commit felonies after breakfast.”
Our mother’s lips quirked. “I need to have a word with your brother. Goodnight, darling.” Seraphina leaned forward and kissed my sister’s cheek, then practically shoved her out the door and closed it behind her with a soft click.
Lucky me. A private conversation at—I glanced at the clock—three in the morning. What was my mother even doing awake at this hour?
She took the closest seat and stared at me, taking in my wrinkled shirt, discarded cufflinks, and the untouched drink sitting on the desk in front of me.
“Well,” she said in a disapproving tone. “Aren’t you a sight.”
I didn’t rise to the bait. I knew better. Four hundred years of dealing with her had given me a great deal of insight.
“I’m waiting,” she said. “How did it go with the Laurent girl?”
I didn’t correct her or insist she address Miss Laurent properly. Because that would admit something aloud to both of us, something I wasn’t yet ready to admit.
“You came here at three in the morning for an update?”
“Yes, well, I wouldn’t have had to if you’d taken your father’s calls.”
Aha. I’d brought this on myself, then.
