Gail’s POV
I stood at the window of the west wing, my forehead pressed against the cool glass, watching the black sedans line up like a funeral procession in the driveway below. I was dressed in emerald silk, the color of envy, or perhaps just the color of a woman hiding a suspicion that felt like poison in her veins. My hands were shaking so violently that I had to lace my fingers together to keep from ripping the lace of my sleeves.
I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready to watch my brother throw his life away on a marriage that felt as cold as the marble floors beneath my feet.
I turned away from the window and walked toward Julian’s suite. Every step felt like wading through deep water. I had known Julian my entire life. I knew the way he tightened his jaw when he was lying to himself. I kn
