Sofia didn't go back to her room after leaving the kitchen. She refused to give Natalia the satisfaction of thinking she had driven her away. Instead, she took her time, letting her pulse settle as she walked toward the garden.
The late afternoon sun was beginning to dip, spilling golden light across the stone path. The fountain's soft trickle was a steady background to the rustle of leaves, and the air smelled faintly of the jasmine vines curling up the trellises. She found a spot beneath one of the arched rose canopies, the perfect place to wait for him.
It wasn't about playing games—it was about reminding herself, and anyone else watching, exactly where she stood. Adam was still her husband. And tonight, she wasn't hiding that.
