Clara stood in the sleek, minimalist corridor of Vance Designs, a ghost haunting her own house. For half a decade, she had only ever visited this floor to bring Julian lunch, wearing soft pastel cardigans, keeping her eyes downcast, smiling politely at the staff who whispered about the boss's "sweet

The atmosphere inside *L’Éclipse*, the city’s most exclusive French restaurant, was designed to foster intimacy. The lighting was low, casting a golden, candlelit glow over the white linen tablecloths. Soft jazz drifted from a grand piano in the corner. It was the kind of place where a man brought h

The waiter had scarcely cleared their dinner plates before Julian’s phone buzzed again. He didn't answer it, but his eyes darted to the screen with the frantic, trapped energy of a cornered animal. The facade of the relaxed, in-control husband was dissolving by the second.

Clara sat serenely, sippi