work from home. Don’t make this dramatic.”
I nearly laughed.
Vanessa wasn’t merely some distant acquaintance.
She was the woman whose name regularly appeared on Daniel’s phone after midnight. The same woman who touched his shoulder a little too often during company dinners. The woman who once looked at me with a smile and said, “Daniel tells me everything.”
For months, he had dismissed me as jealous.
Now he expected her to live inside my home.
“Six months?” I asked calmly.
“Yes.”
“And where will she sleep?”
“The guest suite.”
