"Holy shit—what a bombshell. I thought Mr. Graves and his wife were the real deal. Turns out it was all a lie."
"So Desiree Fox was his real woman this whole time? Back in the old days, Tracey Simmons wouldn't even rank as a concubine."
They tore me apart without a shred of restraint, and Conrad didn't so much as blink.
I sank to the floor, tears falling heavy and fast.
Something like guilt flickered through Conrad's eyes. He opened his mouth, but Desiree caught his arm before a word came out.
"Conrad, the ceremony's about to start. Can you get her out of here?"
He let the woman's coaxing pull his gaze away, and he gave himself entirely to the wedding.
I dragged myself up and staggered toward the door.
Behind me, Conrad called out, almost impatient.
"Get your stuff out of the villa. Desiree sees it tonight, she'll throw a fit—girl's a handful when she's jealous."
I stopped mid-step. My throat felt packed with cotton, and it took everything I had to force out a single word: "Fine."
Back at the house, I had just finished packing when Conrad walked in carrying Desiree.
The moment she spotted me, she buried her face against his chest and whined. "Conrad, why is she still here? How humiliating…"