Chapter Sixty
* The Footage*
Naomi Louis stepped out of her marble bathroom, wrapped in a silk robe. The steam and expensive oils had done nothing to soothe her. A low, humming fury had lived in her bones ever since the disastrous dinner at the Lax townhouse. Now, a new frustration burned: the news, delivered by a terrified Leonor, that Aurora Lax had demanded a full audit before even considering a partnership.
It was an insult. A public vote of no confidence.
She stalked into her private sitting room, the robe swishing around her ankles. She picked up her phone and dialed. “David. My study. Now.”
She didn’t wait for a reply. She went to her desk, pouring herself a stiff drink despite the early hour. Minutes later, a soft knock.
“Come in.”
David, her personal assistant, entered. He
