“Mommy! Dolphins!”
His little voice carried over the music and conversation.
Then Alexander Vale turned around.
The champagne glass fell from his hand.
It shattered near his shoes.
He wasn’t looking at me.
He was staring at Liam.
Same dark hair.
Same gray-blue eyes.
And the same tiny scar cutting through the left eyebrow.
A mark that ran in the Vale family.
A mark Alexander himself had inherited from his father.
For a moment, he looked as if the air had been knocked from his lungs.
“Claire?”
I had imagined seeing my ex-husband again for five years.
I never imagined our reunion would happen aboard a two-hundred-foot yacht in Monaco, surrounded by the same family that had helped destroy our marriage.
Before I could answer, a woman stepped between us.
Vanessa Vale.
Alexander’s older sister.
The woman who had watched with satisfaction when I was forced out of our Manhattan penthouse five years earlier.
She raised her champagne glass.
“Well.”
Her smile was cold.
“Some ghosts really don’t understand when they’re supposed to stay buried.”
I smiled back.
Vanessa had absolutely no idea how appropriate those words were.
Five years earlier, my marriage had collapsed in less than a week.
Alexander received photographs of me entering a hotel with another man.
Then came emails.
Messages that supposedly proved I had been having an affair.
At the time, I was eight weeks pregnant.
I begged him to listen.
He refused.
“You humiliated me.”
“The emails aren’t mine.”
“Stop lying.”
“The photographs don’t mean what you think.”
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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