he looked as if the air had been knocked from his lungs.
“Claire?”
I had imagined seeing my ex-husband again for five years.
I never imagined our reunion would happen aboard a two-hundred-foot yacht in Monaco, surrounded by the same family that had helped destroy our marriage.
Before I could answer, a woman stepped between us.
Vanessa Vale.
Alexander’s older sister.
The woman who had watched with satisfaction when I was forced out of our Manhattan penthouse five years earlier.
She raised her champagne glass.
“Well.”
Her smile was cold.
