But something felt wrong, the veteran craftsmen my dad had hired at high wages to maintain the yacht were nowhere to be seen.
I pulled aside a familiar attendant and asked, “Where did the people who used to maintain the yacht go?”
The attendant looked shocked to see me.
“They were all dismissed by Vincent. He said you were going abroad for medical care, and that the yacht had been handed over to him to manage.”
Just then, Vincent called, his voice smooth and oddly gentle.
“Wife, happy Valentine’s Day! Did you get the roses? I’m sorry, but I have an important client today and really can’t get out of it. I can’t spend the evening with you, so why don’t you go grab something nice with your friend? I’ll reimburse you.”
I glanced at the yacht where Vincent stood holding Desiree by the waist, and a sneer touched my lips.
“Alright, work is important. Go ahead.”
Fearing I might say more, he hung up at once.
Leighton’s anger flared, and she stomped.
“Jasmine, can you tolerate this? That bastard is using your yacht and your money to throw a party for his mistress! I’m going to tear him apart right now!”
I gripped her arm to hold her back.