Sara's jaw tightened mid-chew. She smoothed her expression and shook her head. "No."
Simon's gaze didn't waver. "The truth."
"Why would I lie to you?" She met his eyes, her voice steady. "Adrian Harding values people who know their place. If I didn't, he wouldn't have sought me out. Do you really think I'd dare challenge his boundaries?"
Something in Simon's shoulders loosened. He exhaled slowly, the tension bleeding out of him.
Silence stretched between them. Then, without a word, he picked up a choice cut of meat and placed it in her bowl.
The gesture said what he couldn't. Simon had never been one for sweet words or apologies—he let his actions speak instead.
Sara felt the knot in her chest unravel. Despite the simple meal, she was lighter than she'd been in months. Only with Simon could she shed the suffocating rules of "high society" and just *be*. He wouldn't judge her. He demanded nothing.
Before leaving, she insisted he hire the caretaker back. Since the restaurant explosion, the mere mention of fire drained the blood from his face. Leaving him alone wasn't an option.
She hurried home.
The apartment greeted her with hollow silence.
Adrian didn't return. A single message arrived before bed—perfunctory, brief, offering no explanation.
She had waited, hungry and hopeful, only to be stood up. She'd even messaged him in advance.
Ever since Eva James returned, the ground beneath Sara's feet had been shifting.
What surprised her even more was Eva reaching out to arrange a meal. Sara wanted to refuse, but Adrian's erratic behavior left her grasping at air. If he planned to reconcile with his ex, she needed to prepare her exit strategy.
She went.
The location was the very restaurant Adrian had taken her to countless times.
The moment Sara stepped inside, Eva's gaze locked onto her. Gone was the gentle facade from their last encounter. Today, she radiated a suffocating superiority.
This wasn't a social call.
It was a negotiation.
Sara sat down, posture neutral. "Ms. James. You wanted to see me?"
"Assistant Navarro and I are old acquaintances. Our last meeting was too rushed—I wanted to catch up." Eva's smile didn't reach her eyes. "And while I'm at it—"
She pulled something from her handbag and slid it across the table. "Adrian left this with me. I'd appreciate it if you returned it to him."
Lying on the white tablecloth was the watch Adrian had worn the day he visited the old residence.
So when he left in the middle of the night without a word, he had gone straight to her.
It was no longer a suspicion.
It was a cold, hard fact.
"It's just a watch." Sara kept her voice light, breezy—as if her heart wasn't hammering against her ribs. "Why would Ms. James need to make a personal trip for something so trivial?"
Eva's lips curled. Calm. Triumphant. "He's a very nostalgic man. This watch was the first birthday gift I ever gave him. He's worn it for years."
She watched Sara like a hawk circling prey. "And this restaurant... the brand of clothes you're wearing... we founded them together back then."
*So that's how it is.*
Sara had noticed Adrian's "soft spots" for certain brands and places. She hadn't realized they were all monuments to Eva. He had never forgotten her.
He just never spoke her name.
Under the table, Sara's nails dug into her palms.
She had lied to Simon.
And she had been lying to herself.
A man might separate sex from love, but she couldn't. Two and a half years of marriage had fostered feelings she had no business having for the man who sheltered her.
She knew the chasm between them. She kept calling him "Mr. Harding" to remind him of his comfort zone—and to remind herself of her place. But in this moment, the ache spreading through her chest told her the truth.
She was in far deeper than she'd thought.
"What?" Eva tilted her head, mock concern dripping from every syllable. "Did Assistant Navarro not know?"
She saw the crack in Sara's armor. Her smile deepened, a ghost of mockery playing at the corners of her mouth.
"I really didn't," Sara admitted, deciding to drop the charade. "But people and objects aren't exactly comparable, are they?"
"True." Eva's voice turned silky. "That's why I called him that night to test him. I didn't expect him to actually come."
Eva knew exactly how to twist the knife.
