Chapter 27
The morning sun returned to the Westbrook estate, pouring its bright, natural cinematic light through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The violent tension of the previous night felt like a distant memory within the pristine, white marble walls of the fortress. Dorian stepped into the master suite, having showered and changed into a fresh, crisp white shirt and dark trousers. He found Lottie sitting by the massive bay window, bathed in the non-yellowing, vivid sunlight. She looked breathtakingly beautiful, her fair skin glowing with health and profound peace. “The prosecutor resigned,” Lottie noted softly, looking up from her tablet. Her American accent was sweet and melodic. “It was on the morning news.” Dorian walked over and sat beside her on the velvet chaise lounge. He reached out with his artistic, tattooed fingers, gently brushing a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “The threat is neutralized,” Dorian whispered, leaning in to press a warm kiss to her forehead. “The gala will proceed without interruption.” She smiled, leaning her head against his broad, deeply masculine chest.
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