Page 6 of Vows of Deceit
“K. King?” Harper looked up. “Kelly?”
Cassie sank into the couch, gripping the wine glass but not drinking. “I think so. It makes sense.”
Harper’s voice was laced with fury. “She wouldn’t. Not with Damien. Not after—”
Cassie interrupted quietly, “She would.”
Harper leaned forward. “Cass, I thought you two were... fine again. I mean, you still talk. She was at the hotel opening last month. She brought that investment broker guy—”
“—to flirt with Damien.”
Harper froze. “Wait, you noticed that too?”
Cassie nodded. “And he didn’t even flinch.”
A long silence stretched between them.
“I need Delia to confirm it was Kelly,” Cassie said finally. “I need proof. Not just a guess.”
Harper took a deep breath. “You really think he’s sleeping with her?”
Cassie stared into her wine. “I think he never stopped.”
Delia was waiting for her the next morning in the corner booth of their usual café, low profile, tucked inside a bookstore. She slid a manila folder across the table. “I pulled his charge history again. Here’s the purchase. It wasn’t sent anywhere. It was signed for in person. And I found this.”
She unfolded a printout of a security cam photo, grainy but unmistakable. Kelly. Long blonde hair. Oversized sunglasses. Holding a Raffinée shopping bag and grinning.
Cassie’s stomach turned.
“She left from there and went to the Fifth Avenue spa,” Delia added. “One of Damien’s drivers picked her up. Same day.”
Cassie pressed her fingers to her temple. “He told me he had meetings. Said he was tied up with investors.”
Delia’s voice was gentle. “You okay?”
“No.”
“What do you want to do?”
Cassie closed her eyes. “I want to play the part. Just a little longer. Let them think I’m still clueless.”
She opened her eyes and looked directly at Delia. “And I want you to find out everything.”
Delia nodded. “Everything?”
“Dates. Times. Hotel rooms. Messages. I want a timeline that’s bulletproof. I want a story that doesn’t leave room for denial.”
Delia exhaled, as if bracing herself. “All right. You’ll have it.”
That evening, Cassie returned to the penthouse and made dinner. Damien walked in late, tossed his blazer on the arm of the couch, and kissed her cheek. “Sorry I missed lunch. Meeting ran long.”
She smiled. “Of course.”
He paused, looked at her. “You’re... being really patient with me lately.”
“Shouldn’t I be?”
“I mean, yeah. It’s just... things have been a little off. I’ve been distracted. Doesn’t mean I don’t care.”
