Chapter 2

The next morning, I woke to the feel of his lips on my neck. A wave of nausea rolled through me.

Before my mind was fully awake, my body reacted. I shoved him away, hard.

Darwin landed on the floor with a soft thud, looking up at me with wide, hurt eyes. The confusion on his face was so genuine it was almost comical.

"Gregoria? What's wrong?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

"Nightmare," I mumbled, turning my face into the pillow. "Sorry. Just a bad dream."

It wasn't a lie. My life had become one.

I felt the bed dip as he got back in, but he kept his distance. I could feel his gaze on my back, but I didn't turn around. I just lay there, my stomach churning, wishing he would disappear.

Eventually, he sighed and got out of bed. "I'll go make breakfast," he said, his voice still sounding wounded.

I waited until I heard the shower start in the guest bathroom before I sat up. The guest bathroom. He was being considerate, letting me sleep. Or maybe he just needed to wash her scent off of him.

I crept out of the bedroom and down the hall. The door to our home office was slightly ajar. I pushed it open and saw him standing by the window, his back to me. He was on his phone, a soft smile playing on his lips as he typed.

I didn't need to see the screen to know who he was talking to.

The phone in his hand was a sleek, new model. Not the one he usually carried. A burner phone. A secret phone. For his secret life.

His smile widened as he read a reply, and he let out a soft, breathy laugh. It was an intimate sound, one he used to share with me. The sight of it, directed at someone else, felt like a physical blow.

He must have sensed me there because he suddenly stiffened and spun around.

His eyes widened in panic when he saw me. In a single, fluid motion, he shoved the phone into his pocket, his smile vanishing.

"Gregoria," he said, his voice a little too loud. "You're up. I was just checking some work emails."

A blatant lie.

"Is everything okay for the company gala tonight?" I asked, my voice betraying none of the turmoil inside me. I was an agent. I knew how to wear a mask.

He looked relieved that I hadn't pressed him about the phone. "Everything's perfect. It's going to be a big night for us."

He walked over and tried to put his arm around me, but I stepped back. "I'm going to get ready," I said, avoiding his eyes.

He watched me go, a flicker of unease in his expression.

As I showered, the hot water beating down on me, I could hear him talking to our housekeeper downstairs.

"Please make sure Mrs. Mcintosh's dress is perfectly pressed," he said. "She needs to look her best tonight."

The housekeeper cooed, "You're such a good husband, Mr. Mcintosh. So thoughtful."

I leaned my head against the cool tile of the shower, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. A good husband. He was a master of deception, and the whole world was his audience.

The gala was a sea of tuxedos and glittering gowns. As soon as we arrived, I saw her.

Elyssa Daniel.

She was standing near the bar, wearing a slinky red dress that left little to the imagination. The same dress I had seen her wearing in the video on Darwin's laptop.

Our eyes met across the crowded room. A slow, triumphant smile spread across her face. She knew exactly who I was.

She walked toward me, her hips swaying. She stopped right in front of me, her eyes flicking over my simple black dress with disdain.

"You must be Gregoria," she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Darwin talks about you all the time."

"I'm sure he does," I replied, my voice cold.

Her smile widened. "He told me you love chocolate chip pancakes. I made them for him this morning. He seemed to enjoy them."

The calculated cruelty of her words was meant to wound me, to show me how deeply she had infiltrated my life.

I felt a flash of white-hot anger. This woman, this parasite, was gloating about stealing my husband, my life, right to my face.

"He also told me," she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper, "that you're cold in bed. Predictable."

That was it.

My training, my control, everything snapped.

"A dog will eat anything you put in front of it," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "That doesn't make the garbage taste good."

Her face flushed with anger. Her hand flew up, her long nails aiming for my face.

I was faster. I grabbed her wrist, my grip like iron. With a sharp twist, I spun her around and slammed her against the bar.

Bottles rattled. A glass fell and shattered on the floor.

The entire ballroom went silent.

Every eye was on us.

I heard a sharp intake of breath and then Darwin's voice, booming with authority.

"What in God's name is going on here?"