On the day of my perfume sampling, the place was packed with socialites.Aurelio sauntered in, fashionably late, with Maeve on his arm. Her cheeks were flushed, and there was a lipstick smear on Aurelio's collar that definitely wasn't his.Anyone could tell what they'd just been doing.If this had been before, I would've fallen apart. I would've marched over, torn off their pretty little masks, and demanded to know why they had to do that to me.He was the man I loved, and she was my stepsister. Did my dignity mean nothing to them?Now, I just let my gaze slide over them, cool and steady. Then, I turned back to my guests and kept the conversation going as if nothing had happened.Aurelio noticed my gaze pause on the two of them, and, on instinct, eased Maeve behind him. He waited a long beat, but the meltdown he expected never came. Annoyance flickered across his face.He forced a scornful smile. "Wanda, you're not putting on this little 'tolerant' act because you're afraid I'll
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