Page 158 of My Husband’s New Fiancée

Reality catches up with us the second we land.

“This way,” Andrea says, coming to meet us.

He leads us through a side corridor, then out a service exit where an unmarked car is waiting.

Stephen is behind the wheel, engine running. We exchange a brief nod. Andrea climbs into the front seat while Dante and I slide into the back. The car quickly pulls out of the airport parking lot.

“How’s the collaboration going?” Dante asks.

Stephen flashes a faint smile.

“Mara and Andrea keep challenging each other to see who gets the last word, but so far, nobody’s died.”

Andrea grunts.

“Fuck, that woman’s a real harpy. She never lets anything go.”

Despite his words, I catch a hint of admiration in his voice.

Dante chuckles.

“Has the great Andrea finally met his match?”

“Laugh it up,” his brother shoots back. “That woman is completely rigid. Everything has to follow procedure and be legally airtight. Seriously, who has time for that bullshit?”

I smile.

“Her partner is a police inspector, in case you forgot.”

“Shit, that’s right.”

I let out a quiet laugh.

“If it makes you feel any better, she knows how to look the other way when it suits her.”

“Hard to picture that,” he mutters with a grimace.

Stephen snickers while Dante watches the exchange with amusement.

Despite the light tone of the conversation, Stephen and Andrea keep glancing into the mirrors.

Little by little, their shoulders relax.

The road is clear.

“So, any problems?” Dante asks.

“Nothing unmanageable,” Andrea replies. “But you’re going to have to reconnect.”

We exchange a look.

The break is over.

I pull out my phone and turn it on.

Notifications flood the screen in waves: messages, missed calls, news alerts. I scroll through them quickly, searching for what matters.

I find it almost immediately.