She was Lucius’s vice president of public relations — and she was also the woman who called him late at night, who traveled with him to private conferences, who sent the messages that made him turn his phone facedown whenever Isadora entered a room.

She crossed the kitchen and slid her arm through Lucius’s as though it were the most natural place in the world for it to be.

“The driver’s waiting,” Seraphine said.

Isadora looked at the easy way that hand rested against her husband’s sleeve.

“Lucius.

Are you taking her as your partner tonight?”