Daniel lowered his voice and walked several steps away.
Bianca watched him with growing unease.
“What did you do?” she asked me.
I did not answer.
My phone remained warm against my palm.
Marcus was still on the line.
“Elena,” he said quietly, “take Mila somewhere safe. Then call me back.”
“I need to see Adrian.”
“I know.”
“Do you know who is upstairs?”
Silence.
“Marcus?”
“I know who checked into the suite,” he said. “I don’t know why.”
That distinction cut through my anger.
“Tell me.”
“Not over the phone. Not with Mila standing beside you.”
My grip tightened.
“Is there another woman?”
“I don’t know.”
Marcus was many things—guarded, severe, sometimes infuriatingly protective—but he did not lie to comfort me.
“All right,” I whispered.
“I’m coming to the hotel.”
“No.”
“Elena—”
“No,” I repeated. “Not yet. This is my marriage.”
“And if he has deceived you?”
