"What are you doing, Camilla?"
Sinclair stepped into the room, his sharp obsidian eyes immediately narrowing into a dangerous glint at the sight before him—
Camilla standing close to another man, her head tilted up as she gazed at him with rapt attention.
The temperature in the living room seemed to plummet at the sound of his low, icy voice.
Ramsey, trailing behind him, took in the scene.
Though the distance between Madam and the stranger wasn't exactly intimate, it was clear the Boss wouldn't see it that way.
He paused, instinctively straightening his suit jacket.
*The Taylor family really cranks up the AC,* he thought, suppressing a shiver.
*It's freezing in here.*
Taylor, noticing his friend's darkening expression, couldn't help but smirk wryly.
He grabbed his shirt and shrugged it on, preparing to stand.
*If this jealous storm breaks loose in my house,* he mused, *who knows what the collateral damage will be.*
Vicente turned his head at the sound.
