Chapter 67

Ashton watched Mirabelle flee the dining room without a backwards glance. He set his wine glass down. ‘How’s she settling in?’ Geoffrey stepped forward. ‘Mrs Laurent mostly stayed in her room and worked on her sketches. She dropped by a law firm earlier today. Came back right after.’ ‘Stayed in? She didn’t go to the office?’ He remembered her telling him last week about some big campaign Nyx Collective was prepping. A career-defining launch, apparently. He pulled out his phone. ‘Find out what’s going on at Nyx,’ he said the second Cassian picked up. ‘Ask Yvaine Carlisle. Don’t make it obvious.’ Cassian groaned. ‘Mate, I’m your bloody best man, not your PA. Nor your wife’s. Why don’t you just ask Mirabelle yourself? Or are you two not on speaking terms?’ ‘Do it.’ Ashton hung up. He stared at the screen. Then at his untouched plate. The steak tasted like cardboard. The wine like vinegar. Cassian’s words pissed him off more than he cared to admit. He’d married her. She’d moved in. That wa