The car rolled into the garage. Julian stepped out, straightening his jacket. “Next time anything involving Violet happens, I want every detail.”
“Got it.” Craig stayed where he was, watching Julian disappear into the elevator before letting out a quiet breath. He’d never expected Violet to keep her mouth shut about what had gone down at that hotel—and he hadn’t seen the boss this pissed in years.
Upstairs, the living room lights were still on. That was Julian’s habit—he hated coming home to a pitch-black place.
Mrs. Jones, the housekeeper, came over to take his coat. “Ms. Violet’s waiting in the side lounge.”
Julian loosened his tie as he walked in that direction. The moment he stepped in, he froze.
Violet was there, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, flipping through a magazine. She
