Elena's steps were quick, her high heels clicking firmly along the marble hallway to the top floor of Nathan's building, the towering headquarters in the center of the city. Her eyes didn't look to either side. The receptionist tried to stop her, but Elena was already too sure of her destination.

"Excuse me, Miss Elena, Mr. Nathan is again—"

"I'm his wife," Elena cut in firmly. "And I don't need a schedule to talk to my husband."

The elevator doors opened. Elena entered without hesitation. Her hands were clenched into fists, her breath coming in short bursts of emotion. Not anger, but fear. Afraid that Nathan would actually believe the...