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

The sprawling marital estate Julian had insisted on buying—with her family’s money—was completely silent. It was 2:00 AM. Outside the massive bay windows of the designer kitchen, the city skyline glittered like a scattering of diamonds against the dark velvet of the night.

Clara sat on one of the h

*Scene 1: Kitchen*

Clara's voice raised an octave, adopting the shrill, demanding tone she usually reserved for the country club. "I don't care if the supplier in Holland had a bad frost! I ordered white peonies for the Gala centerpieces, not cream, not ivory—white! If you can't source them, I will