He stepped closer.
“Clara, everyone there is going to be dressed appropriately. They have money. Influence. Status.”
“And I don’t?”
He laughed softly.
“You know what I mean.”
I stared at him.
Five years ago, that laugh would have hurt me.
That night, it simply made me tired.
“Don’t embarrass me,” he said.
I looked down at the invitation again.
Then I smiled.
“I’ll be there.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Really?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
His phone vibrated.
He immediately checked the screen.
Something changed in his expression.
“I have to take this.”
“Business?”
“Yes.”
He walked toward the back door.
A few seconds later, he disappeared into the dark garden.
I remained in the kitchen.
Then I heard a soft vibration.
I looked toward the counter.
Clint had left his second phone behind.
I shouldn’t have touched it.
But the screen lit up again.
One message.
From an unknown number.
I read it once.
Then again.
The ring is secured. See you Thursday, my king.
My stomach tightened.
The ring?
Who was this woman?
And why was she calling my husband her king?
I didn’t confront Clint.
