Chapter 3

There were plenty of women who, even with the financial freedom to walk away, chose to stay with an unfaithful husband. Some stayed out of love, others out of habit, and many more out of fear of giving up the life they had built.

Isabella had no intention of judging them, because every marriage came with circumstances that outsiders knew nothing about. But one thing she knew for certain was that she had no intention of begging for the love of a man who had already chosen to give his to another woman.

If she was still living under the same roof as Thomas, it wasn't because she held on to any hope of saving their marriage, but because she was determined to leave him without having to sacrifice her future in the process.

“Of course. What good is a man who consciously chose another woman to warm his bed?” She paused and raised her glass toward him. “With all due respect to your involvement in that particular arrangement.”

Harvey couldn't help laughing. The sound escaped before he could contain it, and for the first time since discovering the affair, there wasn't a trace of bitterness in his laughter.

Isabella smiled at the sound.

“I have to admit, Isabella, you're nothing as I imagined.”

“Were you expecting a devoted wife begging for her man to come home?”

“Something along those lines.”

“Sorry to disappoint you again.”

“I'm not disappointed.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“No? Then what are you?”

“Intrigued,” Harvey replied, holding her gaze.

This time, Isabella laughed.

“I could have chosen eternal suffering and played the victim for the rest of my life, but I preferred to cry as much as I needed to and then move on. Besides, lately I've found patience to be a particularly useful virtue.”

“Are you waiting for him to end the marriage?”

“As I told you, I'm three necklaces away from reaching my goal, but if he comes to me with divorce papers first, I certainly won't complain.”

“Just three necklaces?”

“He tends to be rather generous when he's feeling guilty.”

Harvey laughed again.

“If I leave him, his ego won't be able to handle it,” Isabella continued. “He'll refuse me everything, we'll spend months fighting, and he'll do everything in his power to make sure I walk away with nothing, just to prove he can. If he's not touching me anymore, what difference does it make if I wait a little longer and do things properly?”

“I admire your patience. Unfortunately, it's not one of my virtues.”

“In that case, I can give you the evidence you're looking for.”

Harvey's expression changed.

“What do you want in return?”

Isabella looked positively offended.

“Oh, please. Don't insult me like that. Just because I'm willing to wait for my husband to spend a little more money on me before I leave him doesn't mean I'm going to profit from your misfortune.”

“Our misfortune.”

She considered the correction and nodded.

“Touché.”

“I appreciate the gesture.” Harvey raised his glass toward her, and Isabella returned the toast. “What kind of evidence do you have?”

“Videos. An endless supply of them.”

This time, Harvey's gaze sharpened, and Isabella responded with a smile.

“Our country house has become their little love nest. Some time ago, I installed two cameras to keep an eye on his young nieces during a family vacation. Apparently, my husband forgot the minor detail that they're still connected.”

Harvey understood immediately.

Video recordings didn't lie.

“Men,” Isabella muttered. “Always forgetting the basics.”

“I can't deny that sometimes we do.”

“Anyway…” She took out her phone and held it out to him. “Here you go. These are the ones. Feel free to send them to yourself.”

Harvey took the phone.

His fingers brushed against Isabella's for the briefest instant, a seemingly insignificant contact, fleeting enough that anyone could have ignored it.

Neither of them did.

Harvey lowered his gaze to the screen and opened one of the videos.

Theresa appeared alongside Isabella's husband as they entered the country house. They had barely crossed the threshold when he grabbed her by the waist, and she began unbuttoning his shirt.

Harvey felt his jaw tighten. It wasn't exactly pain, but something colder: the definitive confirmation that while he'd continued behaving like a married man, Theresa had unilaterally decided that the rules had changed.

“I haven't watched them in detail,” Isabella remarked.

Harvey looked up.

She gave a small shrug.

“I consider it cheap p**n, and let's just say I have higher standards. I prefer a little more cinematography.”

She winked at him, drawing an unexpected laugh from Harvey.

“You're definitely not what I expected.”

“That's starting to sound like a compliment.”

“Maybe it is.”

They'd ordered a second round of cocktails, and there was barely anything left in their glasses by the time Harvey finished sending himself the videos.

He handed her phone back.

Their fingers touched again, but this time neither withdrew immediately. The contact lasted barely a second, perhaps two, before Isabella finally pulled her hand away.

“Well, if that's everything, I'll be on my way.”

She took her phone and stood.

Harvey followed her movements with his eyes.

The legs he'd tried so hard not to stare at throughout lunch were now impossible to ignore as she rose from her chair, and for the first time, Harvey made absolutely no effort to pretend he wasn't looking.

Isabella noticed.

She said nothing, merely picking up her handbag.

“I'll walk you out,” Harvey offered, rising to his feet.

“That won't be necessary. I'm going to stop by the restroom before I leave. Thank you for lunch, Mr. Sterling.”

She'd deliberately returned to using his surname.

“My pleasure, Mrs. Vaughn,” Harvey replied, smiling again.

Isabella left the private dining room and headed toward the restrooms without looking back.

Harvey remained motionless for several seconds.

He should have left. He'd gotten exactly what he wanted, and now that he had the evidence, he could call his attorney, go home, and begin systematically dismantling a marriage that Theresa had apparently abandoned long before he'd discovered the truth.

That would have been the sensible thing to do.

But then he remembered Isabella's voice.

“And here I was, thinking for a second that you were going to suggest fucking me senseless…”

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to dismiss the thought.

No. Whatever was happening inside his head had absolutely nothing to do with Theresa, and perhaps that was precisely why he finally set his glass down on the table.

Isabella reached the restrooms and was pleased to discover they were individual, single-occupancy bathrooms. She stepped inside and was about to close the door when a hand appeared against it, preventing her from doing so.

She frowned as the door swung open again, revealing Harvey Sterling standing on the other side.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Isabella lowered her gaze to the hand he had braced against the door before looking back into his eyes.

There was no anger in his eyes, nor was there any trace of the man who had arrived at the restaurant consumed by the need to gather evidence against his wife.

The expression with which he regarded her was entirely different, and Isabella needed only to hold his gaze for a few seconds to recognize what lay beneath that intensity.

Harvey pushed the door open just enough to step inside, and when Isabella instinctively moved backward to make room for him, he closed it behind him and turned the lock.

The bathroom, which had seemed perfectly adequate until that moment, suddenly felt ridiculously small with a man of his size inside, especially when Harvey turned to face her, and the limited distance between them made his presence impossible to ignore.

This time, Isabella didn't retreat. She remained exactly where she was, watching him with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation as his gaze traveled slowly over her face before settling on her mouth.

It was then that she realized she hadn't imagined the spark she'd noticed in his eyes during lunch, although now, without a table between them or the formalities of a restaurant requiring them to maintain appearances, it was considerably harder to pretend she didn't know what it meant.

It was desire, as raw as it was inconvenient, and the most unsettling part was that it seemed to have absolutely nothing to do with the two people whose infidelity had brought them together in the first place.

Harvey took a step toward her, narrowing the distance between them even further, and regarded her with a confidence that sent a delicious thrill of anticipation through Isabella.

“Now, Mrs. Vaughn, I'm beginning to think you were hoping for a good fuck.”