“What on earth do you mean by that?” I echoed Rafayel’s words with deliberate acidity. “I hadn’t realised my husband kept so many mistresses that he’d neglect to instruct them not to pester me.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow, Leslie. Has someone been troubling Xavier again?” Rafayel replied, followed by a faint, weary sigh.

A flicker of disappointment tightened in my chest. This marriage truly was a farce—Rafayel’s sole concern would always be Xavier, his son. Why had I ever hoped it might become something more?

“Leslie? Are you still there?”

I bit my lower lip, then forced a dismissive cough. “Why did you call in such a rush? I...