The first thing Adrian Cole noticed was that Elena Ruiz did not look surprised.
That was what frightened him.
Not the red wine spilling across the white marble.
Not Natalie’s cold voice.
Not even the casual cruelty of the woman he was supposed to marry in twenty-one days.
It was Elena’s face.
Or rather, the absence of reaction on it.
Three weeks before his wedding, Adrian stood in the shadowed hallway of his family estate in Myers Park, Charlotte, North Carolina, holding twelve white roses wrapped in brown paper and watching his fiancée deliberately pour Cabernet onto a floor the housekeeper had finished mopping less than thirty seconds earlier.
Natalie Warren tilted the empty glass and inspected the spreading stain.
“Clean it again.”
Elena’s fingers tightened around the mop.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And this time around, try not to leave any streaks.”
There had been no streaks.
Adrian could see the marble shining from where he stood.
Natalie could, too.
That was the point.
She wanted Elena to understand that perfection would never be enough.
Adrian felt something cold move beneath his ribs.
The meeting downtown had ended early. He had spent half an hour choosing flowers from Natalie’s favorite shop because he had recently worried that wedding preparations were overwhelming her.
He had imagined walking into the kitchen, surprising her, wrapping his arms around her waist.
Instead, he had arrived home just in time to meet the woman Natalie became when she believed he was not there.
Elena bent down to wipe the wine before it reached the grout.
Her dark hair had slipped loose from its clip. She looked exhausted.
Natalie leaned against the island.
“Honestly, Elena, I don’t understand what’s happening with you lately.”
Elena stopped.
“What do you mean?”
“The mistakes. The sloppiness.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Elena lowered her eyes.
“I’ll do better.”
Natalie smiled.
Not warmly.
Triumphantly.
“See that you do.”
Adrian quietly stepped backward.
The flowers suddenly felt ridiculous in his hand.
He returned to the front door, opened it loudly, then closed it again.
“Natalie?”
Silence.
Then hurried footsteps.
