The morning passed in tense anticipation.
Mark and I had settled into our usual work routine, but neither of us could fully focus. Every few minutes, my eyes would flick toward the clock, tracking the time until Nate's arrival.
It was Friday, the end of the week, the last moment of quiet before everything in the house changed.
Nate Lancaster was arriving today.
But he wasn't the problem: his father was. He was a powerful investor with a long-held dream of seeing his son take over Rowley Enterprises.
And now that son was coming to stay for a week, with no idea that Mark's perfect marriage was nothing more than an act.
Mark was at his desk, eyes trained on his laptop, but I could tell he was only half-reading whatever report he had open. His fingers tapped idly against the edge of his desk, his usual sharp focus dulled by the weight of what was coming.