Catherine's POV
The whole pretense was finally over. Currently, we were all lined up, stepping out of the Sterling estate. Our limousine drove to the entrance and the driver stepped out, opening the door for us. We got in one after the other.
Richard sat in the rear-facing seat, unbuttoning his tuxedo jacket, and grabbing a glass and bottle of amber whiskey. While pouring the content into the glass cup, he looked like a man who had just conquered a small country. He didn't even look at us. He stared out the window, a small, triumphant smirk playing on his lips.
"Six hundred thousand for a weekend at the estate," he murmured, more to himself than to us. "The Sterling endorsement is as good as signed. Tonight was a masterpiece."
