Ethan stepped out mid-conversation, smiling, tie perfectly straight. He looked so composed that for a split second I felt disoriented—like my mind couldn’t reconcile this polished executive with the man whispering promises into someone else’s phone.
His eyes scanned the lobby and landed on me.
The smile vanished.
“Marina?” he said too loudly into the phone. “I—I have to call you back.”
He ended the call abruptly and strode toward me, fast and controlled, as if he could drag this back into privacy through sheer force of will.
“What are you doing here?” he muttered when he got close.
I stepped aside so he could see the suitcases resting at Lila’s feet.
“I brought your things,” I said clearly, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Since you’ve been living two lives, I thought it was time you chose one in public.”
Color drained from his face. “This is not the place.”
“You made it the place,” I answered. “Every time you touched her. Every time you lied to me. Every time you used this building as cover.”
Lila looked at him as though she needed confirmation he was real. “Ethan,” she said shakily, “you told me—”
“Not now,” he snapped, not even glancing at her.