CLAIRE'S POV
The owner of that deep voice was a tall, golden-haired, ice-blue-eyed man dressed in a sharp custom suit that screamed old-school British class.
One look at his chiseled features and you’d remember him forever.
He’s Frank Langfitt, the owner of Lumen Gallery—and my first brother.
“Mr. Langfitt, how nice to see you again,” Beatrice greeted warmly and proceeded to shake hands with him.
“Mrs. North. Thank you for taking the time to visit my gallery,” Frank acknowledged casually.
Upon realizing who he was, Isabella quickly faked some tears, her eyes glistening. “Mr. Langfitt, please kick this rude psycho out. She’s trashing the gallery’s image.”
Isabella smirked at me like she’d already won.
But Frank stayed still, his eyes locked on me just a few steps away. Then his voi
