Miss Leone—"
"You can call me Sierra," she said with a smile, voice soft with warmth.
"Miss Leone," Julian repeated coolly, ignoring her correction without sparing her so much as a glance. His gaze remained fixed on the massive painting before them. "It's nice to finally meet you… properly."
"Julian—"
"Refrain from calling me by name," he interrupted, a thin smirk twitching at the corner of his lips, though his eyes remained distant and cold. "We're not that close."
Sierra hesitated, her smile faltering. "…Mr. Saintclaire, then. I—"
"You had a lot to say last night when you created a scene," Julian said, finally turning to face her. His tone was cutting, measured. "So this time, let me speak."
She bristled.
She didn't like getting interrupted. He didn't even allow her to finish a sentence. It was annoying.
But she said nothing, swallowing her discomfort.
"Miss Leone, what do you think about this painting?"
