"That's a gorgeous dress." Valentina joins me on the balcony.
I blink, taken aback by her words.
"What? It's a gorgeous dress. An archived dress from Dior."
I don't have the patience for small talk. "What are you doing here?" she should be in NewYork with her husband.
"Job."
I raise an eyebrow. "You're working for Yifan?" what about her business?
"Yes, in the finance department. He recruited me because of my high merits. He's paying me double."
Something's off. Her usual arrogance is gone, replaced with a strange emptiness in her tone. And then, I notice the absence of a wedding ring on her finger.
"That's surprising, considering you got married just a few months back," I say, voice casual, but the question lingers.
Valentina narrows her eyes, her lips curling into something close to a sneer. "You really don't know, or are you just pretending?"
"I don't know what?"