The morning of the annual Atticus fundraising-dinner event, Celine Atticus rose earlier than the roosters, tied her robe, and grabbed her phone from the bedside table.
She walked to the balcony, and placed the items on the table she had suggested be placed there.
Taking a seat, she dialed Reign Kings.
Reign, who had barely had any sleep because of her anxiousness of the event, picked up in a heartbeat.
"Why are you only just calling?" She asked in an accusatory tone.
Celine rolled her eyes. Opening the small box she also carried with her, she picked a cigarette, and a lighter.
"Why didn't you call if you wanted to talk?" She asked, and took a puff.
She loved the hour before dawn so much. It was quiet, and not filled with unnecessary noise.
Soon, the maids would get up, and work would ensue.
It was going to be a long day, and if her threat had any impact, an eventful one.
