The company lobby smelled of lemon polish and money. Mr. Santos met me with that careful expression servants wear when they don’t know how to lie. “Madam,” he said quietly, “Mr. Nathan left earlier. He went out with Miss Amber. They were seen leaving for the port.”
The port. The word landed like a punch. I didn’t think. I ran.
The yacht was lit and loud, a pocket of other people’s joy. I stayed in the shadows and watched. Nathan stood close to Amber—closer than he ever had to me in private. Her laugh was sharp; his hand rested on her back the way it should have rested on mine. His voice was low and easy, the kind of voice that kills trust slowly.
“Are you sure she won’t come?” Amber asked, like she was practicing worry. “What if she finds out you canceled to be with me?”
Nathan smiled as if naming the truth was a joke he alone understood. “She won’t. She always believes me. She’s gullible because she loves me. The only reason I married her was because of our parents. If only you were the legitimate one, it would have been different.”