At 38, he still drew attention: tailored suit, confident smile, expensive watch. The woman on his arm seemed delighted with everything.

“This place is incredible,” Nadia whispered, adjusting her wine-colored dress that caught every glimmer of light. “I can’t believe we’re staying here.”

“I promised you the best,” Tomás replied, squeezing her hand. “Nothing less than the best for you.”

The receptionist, in her bottle-green blazer and with a perfectly practiced smile, typed some information into the computer.

“Welcome to the Belmont Reforma, Mr. Briones. It’s a pleasure to have you with us tonight.”

Tomás barely glanced back at her. He was too busy enjoying Nadia’s surprised expression and thinking about what would happen later.

His wife, Jimena, believed he was in Monterrey, at a business conference. As always, he had sent her photos of “meeting rooms” that were actually restaurants.

After twelve years of marriage, Jimena trusted him blindly. That trust had made his double life far too easy.