The taxi ride from Victor’s office to the penthouse took twenty-two minutes. To Clara, it felt like twenty-two years.

She sat in the back seat, her knee bouncing frantically, staring at the GPS on her phone. Traffic on 5th Avenue was a crawling nightmare of yellow cabs and delivery trucks.

"Can

The silence in the kitchen was absolute, save for the rhythmic, dripping sound of spilled coffee hitting the floor.

Julian’s thumb pressed against Clara’s knuckles, his grip firm. He wasn't letting go. He was analyzing her, searching her face for the familiar, submissive panic he so heavily relied

The dining room of the penthouse was bathed in the warm, golden glow of a crystal chandelier. The mahogany table was set for twelve, adorned with fine china, polished silverware, and tall, white taper candles.

It was the perfect stage for a perfect lie.

Clara stood by the floor-to-ceiling window