When Brooklyn finally made it home, she said, in a somewhat strained voice, to her driver. “I’ll be inside shortly.”
“Yes, Miss Brook. I’ll make the staff aware that you are home, and I'll park the car in the garage when you come inside.”
“Thank you, Taylor. Make sure to have them prepare me a warm bath and something strong to drink.”
She was so annoyed, and her nerves were fried; the argument she had with Dean felt like a thunderclap in the aftermath of their conversation. With tremendous mental as well as physical effort, Brooklyn eventually exited the car, standing outside for a moment, her hand resting on the cool metal doorknob, trying to steady her racing heart. The betrayal stung like an open wound, oozing pus and blood. That’s how disgusted she was that he slept with that cheap
