Victoria had been ill for a while, and though her health was slowly improving, she knew she couldn''t keep sending McNeil off to see ire anymore.


    She believed that a man only strayed when his needs weren''t being met at home. Secretly, Violet had bought a drawer full ofcy lingerie, nning every detail. Once McNeil finally gave in to her, she was sure he''d never think about ire again.


    She''d heard that women who''d given birth often had ugly stretch marks on their bellies. She didn''t want that for herself-she wasn''t ready to lose her looks.


    McNeil lit a cigarette. "Violet, ire is my wife."


    The words had barely left his lips when he heard a faint cough from the bedroom. He hung up right away.


    Violet clutched her phone, tears streaming down her face, fingers tightening until she nearly snapped the device in two.


    Staring out into the pitch-ck night, she whispered to herself, "So, you two spent the whole night together, didn''t you?"


    McNeil didn''t leave ire''s ce until dawn.


    ire slept until nearly nine, waking with her head pounding. She was still wearing McNeil''s dress shirt, nothing underneath. As she sat up, the buttons gaped open her bra nowhere to be found.


    She pressed her hand to her forehead and pulled the shirt tighter around her. shes ofst night drifted back-she''d had a dream about McNeil, a vivid, shameless one. In her dream, they''d been together again and again. Her heart was already shattered, yet she could still dream of making love to him.


    ire couldn''t help butugh at herself-pathetic.


    When she swung her legs out of bed, her knees almost buckled. Her whole body ached her head throbbed, her back was sore, and her legs trembled. She feltpletely drained, as if the dream had been real.


    "ire, you were drunkst night. Mr. Garcia said you should take it easy ande in this afternoon," Ailie said, hovering in the doorway.


    Memories clicked into ce. Last night, she''d run into McNeil at the Barrow Club. She''d already had a few sses of wine, andter, feeling miserable that even her own daughter refused to acknowledge her, she''d finished off half a bottle of red alone.


    After that, everything was a blur-except for that dream.


    But dreams, no matter how intense, always fade.


    Before heading to Quantum Core Technologies, ire stopped by her friend Simms''s ce to change clothes. Only then did she go to see Curtis.


    As soon as she walked into the office, heads turned. ire was strikingly


    beautiful, and now she''d returned as Mr. Garcia''s personal assistant. It didn''t take


    long for the whispers to start.


    Curtis was famously picky when it


    came to hiring assistants. ire was young, attractive, and


    overqualified-fueling plenty of. spection about whether there was more between the two of them than just work.


    But when Curtis saw ire arrive, he was in an unusually good mood. He gave


    her a quick rundown of her tasks, and she nced over the packed schedule withoutint.


    Ailie trailed after her, peeking curiously at the color-coded calendar Curtis had prepared. Her eyes widened-there was a daunting list of Contract proposals, one after another. Curtis''sst assistant hadsted less than a week. Rumor had it, she''d told everyone that Curtis was a tyrant and his demands were downright impossible.


    "Hey, Ailie, you seem to know Mr. Garcia''s new assistant pretty well. What''s her story?" Jack from HR sidled over, eager for some gossip.


    "She''s my friend—a whiz with numbers," Ailie replied, not hiding her admiration. Back in their university days, ire had been a legend, and finance was just her elective.


    Jack rolled his eyes. "Come on, don''t try to cover for her. Is she Mr. Garcia''s new me or what? A financial genius? Please. We do need one around here, butst I checked, her name isn''t Turner."