Mason didn't sleep well that night.
After leaving the maid's room, he went back to the living room, found his coffee cold, and poured it down the sink. Sophie had already gone upstairs. Only her perfume lingered on the cushions.
You'll sign. Just like that.
Amelia's calm voice would not leave his head.
He had expected shouting, tears, at least some refusal. He had prepared to talk her around, even to force the issue if she pushed too hard. Instead, she had agreed with one short sentence and a faint, distant smile.
He sat in the dark a long time, cigarette between his fingers, unlit.
His thoughts drifted back to the first time he saw her.
A charity banquet years ago.
Crowded hall, bright lights, music, people talking in low voices. He had gone for Turner Group's image.
Then Amelia
