His uncle let out one hard breath that might have been a laugh if the moment had been less poisonous.
Evelyn was unraveling faster.
“This is revenge,” she said.
“Because of one family argument.”
Daniel’s face remained politely blank.
“A family argument does not generally involve assault, attempted dispossession of the legal owner, unauthorized use of funds, and false claims of title in front of witnesses.”
That sentence broke whatever remained of the party.
Relatives started murmuring.
One cousin slipped back inside.
A waiter disappeared toward the kitchen.
Marissa looked sick.
Rodrigo took another step and pointed at me.
“You’re enjoying this.”
I met his eyes.
“No,” I said.
“I enjoyed defending you when I thought you were weak.
This is just what happens when I stop.”
It was the truth.
The hardest part of loving Rodrigo had never been supporting him.
It had been translating him to myself.
Making excuses for his vanity.
Calling his dependence devotion.
Calling his silence stress.
Calling his cowardice complexity.
But some moments clarify a marriage forever.
A hand across your face in front of people who wait to see whether you deserve it is one of them.
Daniel turned to the security team.
“Escort Mrs.
