The heavy iron doors closed behind me as I stepped into the Valois Villa, my mind still reeling from the conversation with Camille. Her kindness felt like sandpaper against my raw emotions. How could I hate someone so genuinely nice? It would be easier if she were cruel.
Butler Marcus stood in the foyer, his perpetual scowl deepening at the sight of me.
"Miss Beaumont," he said, my name sounding like a disease on his tongue. "Master Leo is in the training room. He's been waiting."
I nodded stiffly, refusing to be intimidated by a man who ironed handkerchiefs for a living. "Thank you, Marcus."
His eyes narrowed at my casual use of his first name. "It's Mr. Thornton to you."
"Of course," I replied with a saccharine smile. "And it's Ms. Beaumont to you."
I walked past him before he could respond, feeling his glare burning into my back. One small victory in a day filled with defeats.
