CELESTE’S POV
The first time I left home, I couldn’t bear to give up my creature comforts.
Private villas overlooking the Aegean, yacht parties in Ibiza, beach clubs in Miami. Sun and luxury were the twin pillars of my existence.
Two things I now couldn’t remember the last time I experienced.
I flinched as I stepped out of the Blue Lantern and cold rain stung my cheeks. Ducking beneath the awning, I hugged my flimsy jacket tighter and shot a glare at the sullen, brooding sky.
The rain poured in a drizzle, and honestly I’d made the fifteen-minute walk home in worse weather, but—
But nothing.
Complaining was a luxury I no longer deserved.
No private chauffeur was waiting to ferry me in the lap of luxury to a gorgeous mansion with servants ready to rub my feet and draw me a hot bath.
All that waited was a cold, soggy trek to my cockroach-infested apartment where the hot water tap was just…tap.
And that was that.
