Jefferson's POV
An annoyed snarl escaped my throat as the call went straight to voicemail for the third time. The incompetence surrounding me never failed to astound me, particularly when I desperately needed that damned witch to clarify what was unfolding. My jaw tightened, teeth grinding together as my study door burst open without warning.
Cathrine marched inside, practically vibrating with fury. Every fiber of my being fought against releasing another threatening growl.
Several heartbeats passed before she finally spoke. "Seriously? You're going to pretend I don't exist?"
I slowly raised my gaze from the phone to examine her.
Cathrine stood there with her cascading ebony hair and blazing, wrathful eyes, looking absolutely livid. Nothing unusual there. Cathrine and rage were constant companions, like lightning and storms. Sometimes I questioned how we shared the same bloodline. She displayed every emotion openly, while I remained indifferent to most everything.
