Ruby’s POV
The penthouse living room still smelled faintly of the morning’s abandoned mimosa and cold anger when Betty’s soft, hesitant footsteps approached the chaise lounge.
I was sitting with my legs drawn up, wrapped in a plush, oversized cream silk robe that felt like the only shield I had left in Manhattan. My wild ginger curls were tied loosely in a silk scrunchie, and my face was completely bare, save for the dark circles of humiliation lingering beneath my green eyes.
"Madame Ray," Betty murmured, bowing her head deferentially. "There is a Miss Allie Grace downstairs. She insists on seeing you. She... she is carrying a bakery box and refused to leave."
I blinked in surprise, my green eyes narrowing slightly. "Allie Grace? What is she doing here?"
Before Betty could even
