Garbed in a sleek black silk pantsuit that made her skin glow like fine porcelain, she exuded an air of ageless, regal authority. Ensconced in the armchair beside her, mousy little Willa Jameson—Domino’s personal secretary—studiously tapped away on her laptop, logging the proceedings for posterity. “You’re certain that the spell breaker took affect?” Domino threw the question to Clarissa. “There are no lingering threads linking Jemma to Antoinette?” Clarissa dragged her nails through her hair before scowling and dropping her hands. “All links are broken. I made sure of it.” “That may very well be.” Domino sipped at her coffee. Wrinkling her nose as if the beverage offended her, she relegated the cup to the corner of the desk. Clarissa’s mouth rolled in a tight line. Griffin silently applauded her willpower. Bad enough Domino had taken over Clarissa’s prized desk. She’d doubled the slight by setting the hot mug on its surface without a coaster, something that undoubtedly had Clarissa grinding her teeth behind those clenched lips.
