Cecilia's pov
Yvonne's place was buried in the suburbs, with no neighbors in sight, just grass and a security system ready to scan your eyeballs. It looked like a luxury yacht floating in a sea of lawn.
Classic Yvonne.
For someone who fluttered through Denver's high society like it was her private runway, she kept her actual home life behind velvet ropes.
Very few people ever made it past these gates.
"Miss Yvonne is in the media room on the third floor," the butler said, his tone so flat it could've been automated."You can head up yourself, Miss Cecilia."
I nodded and nudged Tang toward the elevator.
Everything was spotless, like always. It felt more like a showroom than a home.
We opened the media room door.
Yvonne was sprawled across a custom leather couch,
