Chapter Ninety-Five
* Desperate Moves*
Leonor Louis was waiting in the grand, cold living room when Naomi finally stumbled in. The clock on the mantle read half past two in the morning. She smelled of expensive perfume and cigar smoke, her heels dangling from her fingers.
“And where have you been until this hour?” Leonor’s voice was quiet, which was worse than a shout. It was the sound of a man who had run out of anger and was left with only disappointment.
Naomi jumped, not expecting him. She quickly slipped her shoes back on, composing her face. “Leonor. You’re up. I was with potential investors from Dubai. The Al-Fayed group. Trying to convince them to back a new gallery expansion. It took… longer than expected.”
“Investors?” Leonor repeated, standing up from his armchair. “Or more
