The invitation to the Maritime Trade Council gala arrived with Marcus's usual instructions attached — attend, perform stability, secure goodwill ahead of the next contract cycle. What it didn't mention, because Marcus either didn't know or didn't care to warn them, was that Lucia would be there, on the arm of the husband she'd chosen over Adrian six years ago.
Elena felt Adrian go rigid beside her the moment he spotted her across the ballroom — dark-haired, elegant, laughing at something her husband said with the easy comfort of a woman who had built a life she was satisfied with. She wore pale blue, her hair pinned up in a style that looked effortless and certainly wasn't, and for a moment Elena understood, with an unexpected pang of empathy rather than jealousy, exactly what kind of wom
