TERESA'S P.O.V.
"Bring the car around," Lucian commanded into the phone, his tone icy enough to freeze hell over. His voice carried that same don't-you-dare-argue-with-me edge, making even the poor soul on the other end sound terrified. "We're going back to the estate."
I crossed my arms and glared at him. "Lucian," I began, my voice deceptively calm while anger simmered just beneath the surface. "What do you think you're doing? We can talk here. This is a company, why can't we continue our discussion here?"
He turned to face me, and for a split second, I thought I saw a crack in his cold, marble exterior. His eyes softened, but his jaw remained clenched like he was fighting off a migraine. "This isn't something we can discuss in the office, Teresa," he replied, his voice low but firm. "It's… sensitive."
