Then again.
Victor reached for his own phone and grimaced.
“He’s calling my office too.”
Ronald.
Of course.
I muted the phone.
An hour later, Mara left with the executives. Victor remained behind to review the emergency filings.
That was when my doorman called.
“Ms. Carter,” he said cautiously, “there is a woman here insisting she knows you. She says her name is Sienna Vale.”
My hand froze over the paperwork.
Victor looked up.
I knew the name.
Every betrayed wife knows the name, even when she pretends not to.
Sienna Vale was twenty-six, beautiful in a sharp, expensive way, and convinced Ronald was her pathway into a better life. I had never confronted her. Not once. Ronald had expected tears. Priscilla had expected scandal.
I gave them silence instead.
“What does she want?” I asked.
“She says it’s urgent.”
Victor shook his head.
I should have refused.
But something in the doorman’s voice felt wrong.
“Send her up,” I said.
Five minutes later, Sienna stepped out of the elevator wearing a red dress beneath a black trench coat. Her makeup was flawless except beneath her eyes, where fear had broken through the concealer.
She looked nothing like the filtered photographs.
She looked young.
Too young for the damage she was carrying.
Victor opened the door but did not move aside until I nodded.
Sienna entered slowly, clutching her purse with both hands.
“Mrs. Cobb,” she said.
“Ms. Carter.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Right. Sorry.”
