I didn’t wait for Damien to come upstairs. I didn’t wait for the ex-wife to stumble across me like some dirty secret.
No. That wasn’t my style.
If she wanted to sniff around for proof, I’d give her more than she could handle.
I slipped into one of Damien’s crisp shirts, leaving the buttons undone just enough to tease, and walked downstairs barefoot, as though I owned the place. Every step was deliberate, the silence of the house broken only by the soft click of my nails against the banister as I descended.
The ex-wife’s laugh died mid-breath when she saw me. Her painted lips parted, her eyes dragging over me like knives, but I didn’t flinch. I didn’t even look at Damien.
I looked only at her.
“Oh,” I said sweetly, tugging the collar of the shirt wider across my shoulder. “I didn’t re
