"I told the gate guards not to bother announcing me," Carla's voice echoed in the large foyer. "I didn't want to stress Nico by making him wait on the driveway."
Mara stood at the top of the sweeping stairs, looking down.
Carla Marino was standing in the centre of the Ferrante estate. She wore a dramatic, plunging red dress that practically screamed for attention. She looked exactly like a woman who believed she had just won a prize.
Mara slowly walked down the stairs. She was wearing a floor-length, heavy silk robe, wrapped tightly and tied at the waist, completely concealing the dress she had spent the last hour stepping into.
"Good evening, Carla," Mara said in a perfectly calm voice. "You look eager."
Carla gave a sharp, patronising expression. "It's a very important night, if I may say, Mara. I'm sure it's a bit lonely for you, having to stay behind in the west wing. But public image matters. The Council needs to see who Nico truly relies on."
