Chapter 145 Astarte

• Grace
• It was different than Isolde's voice, more sultry and less playful. My whole body went tense, and I wanted to pull away, but Charles tightened his grip around me just a little and put his phone on speaker. A projection of a woman's face appeared.
• She was stunning. I could barely believe that a person who looked like that existed. Her eyes were a brilliant amber, and her lips were painted a bright red like blood and sex. She looked barely dressed in some lacy camisole and satin robe. She could have been lounging in bed from the way her hair was tousled on her head.