"Who the fuck is out there?" Gavin barked.
I stepped back, melting into the shadows of the hallway. My chest tightened, but I didn't make a sound. I turned and walked quickly, silently, toward the front door.
I slipped out, pulling the door shut until the latch clicked softly.
The next morning, I sat at the kitchen island, sipping black coffee. The penthouse smelled of fresh citrus cleaner. The maid had already been here.
Gavin walked in, adjusting his tie. He stopped when he saw me, a sheepish smile forming on his face.
"Iris," he said, walking over to kiss the top of my head.
I didn't flinch. I let his lips touch my hair.
"I am so sorry about last night," he said, taking the stool next to mine. "The merger negotiations went completely off the rails. I was stuck in the boardroom until past midnight."
"Is that right?" I asked, staring at my mug.
"I tried to call, but my battery died. Mark left early, and it was just chaos."
He lied so easily. His eyes were wide, earnest, completely devoid of guilt.
"I understand," I replied, my voice steady. "Work comes first."
"You aren't mad?"
"Why would I be mad? You were working hard for our future."
Gavin visibly relaxed. His shoulders dropped. "You are the best wife, Iris. Truly. I'll make it up to you. I promise."
"Don't worry about it."
"No, I mean it. I'll buy you that diamond tennis bracelet you looked at last month."
"A bracelet sounds lovely, Gavin."
I smiled at him. A perfect, hollow smile. I wanted to see how far he would take this charade. I wanted to watch him dig his own grave.
"I have to run," he said, checking his Rolex. "Big day today. Love you."
"Have a good day."
He left. I stared at the empty stool.
One week passed. I played the devoted wife. I cooked his favorite meals. I asked about his day. I never mentioned the phone call, the photo, or Celeste.
Tonight was the Hale family's annual charity gala. It was the most important social event of the year for Gavin's family.
I walked into my dressing room to retrieve the custom silk gown I had ordered months ago. It hung in a garment bag at the back of the closet.
I unzipped the bag.
My breath caught.
The gown was shredded. Deep, jagged cuts tore through the bodice. The silk skirt lay in ribbons. Someone had taken a pair of scissors to it, destroying it beyond repair.
I stared at the ruined fabric. The maid? No. She had no reason.
Gavin? Unlikely. He cared too much about appearances.
Which left only one possibility. Someone with access to the penthouse. Someone who wanted to humiliate me.
I checked my watch. Six-thirty. The gala started at seven. There was no time to buy a new dress. No time to call a stylist.
I rummaged through my closet, pushing past cocktail dresses and sundresses. I found an old, plain black sheath dress I wore to a funeral two years ago. It was modest, unadorned, completely inappropriate for a black-tie gala.
I pulled it on. I tied my hair into a simple knot. I grabbed a clutch and left the apartment.
When I arrived at the grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel, the room was already packed with New York's elite. Crystal chandeliers threw sparkling light over diamonds and designer gowns.
I stepped through the double doors.
Heads turned. Whispers erupted immediately.
"Is that Iris Hale?" a woman hissed nearby.
"What is she wearing? Did someone die?" another muttered.
I kept my chin up, searching the crowd for my husband.
Gavin stood near the ice sculpture, talking to a group of investors. He spotted me. His smile vanished instantly. His face flushed with dark red anger.
He excused himself and marched toward me, grabbing my elbow.
"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed, dragging me toward a secluded corner.
"My dress was ruined," I said, trying to pull my arm free.
"Ruined? What are you talking about? You look like a beggar, Iris!"
"Someone cut my gown to pieces."
"Stop lying!" he snapped. "You did this on purpose to embarrass me because I missed our anniversary!"
"I didn't do anything to the dress, Gavin. Let go of me."
"You are humiliating me in front of my family! In front of my business partners!"
"Listen to me—"
"No, you listen," he interrupted, his eyes blazing. "You never take anything seriously. You don't care about my reputation. You just want to play the victim."
"Well, well. Look who decided to dress down for the occasion."
I turned.
Celeste stood there, wearing a breathtaking ruby-red couture gown. Diamonds glittered at her throat. She looked like royalty.
"Celeste," Gavin said, his tone softening immediately. "You look stunning."
"Thank you, Gavin," she purred, stepping closer. She held a crystal glass of red wine.
She looked at me, her eyes raking over my plain black dress. A malicious smirk touched her lips.
"Iris, darling," Celeste said. "Did you lose your invitation? Or did you just forget the dress code?"
"My dress was destroyed," I said, meeting her gaze coldly.
"How tragic," she mocked.
She took a step forward, pretending to stumble. Her hand jerked.
Dark red wine splashed across the front of my black dress, soaking the fabric instantly.
"Oh, my goodness!" Celeste gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth. "I am so clumsy!"
I looked down at the dark stain spreading across my chest.
"What did you do?" I asked quietly.
"It was an accident," she said, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. Then she leaned in close, lowering her voice so only I could hear. "But really, with a cheap rag like that, does a little wine even matter?"
She laughed softly, stepping back to stand next to Gavin.
"Gavin," an authoritative voice boomed behind us.
Gavin's father, Arthur Hale, approached. His face was a mask of fury. Several other family members trailed behind him, glaring at me.
"Father," Gavin said, straightening his posture.
"What is the meaning of this?" Arthur demanded, pointing a thick finger at me. "Is this a joke? You come to my charity gala looking like a street urchin?"
"Arthur, please," I started. "My original dress—"
"Silence!" he roared. "I will not have my family humiliated by a woman who cannot even dress herself properly."
"She did it to spite me," Gavin chimed in, throwing me under the bus without hesitation.
"Disgraceful," Gavin's mother sneered. "I always said she wasn't fit for this family."
"I am not lying," I said, raising my voice. "Someone destroyed my gown."
"Enough!" Arthur barked. "Security!"
Two large men in black suits stepped forward.
"Escort my daughter-in-law out of the building," Arthur ordered. "She is no longer welcome here tonight."
"Gavin," I said, looking at my husband. "Are you really going to let them throw me out?"
Gavin looked at me, then at Celeste, who was smiling triumphantly.
"Take her out," Gavin told the guards.
The security guards grabbed my arms.
"Don't touch me," I snapped, shaking them off. "I can walk myself."
I turned my back on the Hale family. I walked out of the ballroom, my spine straight, the wine dripping down the front of my dress.
As I reached the lobby, my phone buzzed in my clutch.
I pulled it out. An unknown number.
I answered. "Hello?"
"Mrs. Hale," a deep, unfamiliar male voice said. "I believe you and I have a common enemy. Shall we meet?"
