Celine strode out of the police station with a fury that made the air around her feel heavy and electric.
Every step she took was a deliberate strike against the pavement.
She reached her luxury sedan, pulled the door open with a sharp jerk, and threw herself into the driver's seat.
As soon as the door clicked shut, she let out a guttural sound of frustration and slammed her fist onto the center of the steering wheel.
The impact echoed through the quiet, leather scented interior of the car, but she barely felt the sting in her hand.
"That wretched Sebastian," she muttered to the empty cabin, her eyes burning with a cold light.
"How dare he speak to me like that. He has truly become too spoiled while growing up under the Frost name."
