_Rowena’s POV_
We were two minutes from the Varkos gates when Celeste’s driver suddenly slowed.
I looked up from my phone.
A black limousine was parked along the road just outside the estate entrance, long and clean and completely still. Two men stood outside it in dark suits, and even from the car I could see they weren’t staff. The way they stood, the way their eyes moved, these were trained people. Security, serious and unhurried.
“Celeste,” I said.
“I see it,” she said.
The rear window of the limo came down.
I went still at the sight of the people inside.
My grandfather’s face appeared in the window.
Eighty-one years old, silver-haired, with the particular quality of stillness that came from a man who had spent decades being the most powerful person in most
