Page 44 of Mr. and Mrs. Novak

Suddenly, I hear her voice. That voice that’s haunted my nightmares since the day I got married.

"Ruslan, it’s been so long..."

Natasha. She’s dazzling in a black dress that leaves nothing to the imagination, with a matching lace mask. Of course she would be here. How could I have been naive enough to think she’d miss such an opportunity to see him, to taunt me?

"Listen, I’d like to talk to you about something urgent. Can we speak privately for a few minutes?" she asks in a sultry voice, her gaze sliding over him like honey.

"I’m afraid not," Ruslan replies, his voice polite but firm, his hand tensing slightly against my back. "As you can see, I’m here with my wife. I’m not working tonight."

"Oh, come now," she coos, batting her lashes. "We all know what these events are really for. If it’s not business, then why come at all?"

Her scheming makes me sick. I feel the rage rise within me—that cold fury that’s been my constant companion since I discovered their affair.

"Ruslan, darling," I say coldly, "don’t let me stop you. Go ahead, I’ll get us some refreshments."

He turns to me with a penetrating look, as if he’s trying to unravel the mystery I’ve become.

"Come on," she insists, taking his arm, a triumphant smile on her lips.

He has no choice but to follow her to maintain appearances. Watching them disappear into the crowd hits me harder than I expected.

Is this jealousy?

Who am I kidding? I’ve been in love with this man since I was ten years old, since the night he stepped into our home during a thunderstorm. And now, even though he wears my ring, another woman is stealing his affection, his desire, his love.

"Good evening! What a surprise," a familiar voice calls out.

My heart skips a beat. Delta. Dressed in a three-piece suit and wearing a Venetian mask, he blends perfectly into the crowd—but it doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t be here. He leans in to kiss my cheek and quickly whispers in my ear:

"Meet me in the garden. It’s urgent."

Without another word, he disappears into the crowd. I keep smiling, nodding at the conversations around me, but my mind is on high alert. Delta wouldn’t have come in person unless it was serious.

I pretend to be interested in the buffet for a few minutes before making my way casually toward the gardens.

Delta is waiting in the shadows of a rose bush, far enough from the glowing windows to avoid prying eyes.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I whisper, alarmed.

Seeing him in public goes against every security rule we have.

"Relax, the others covered my tracks. I had to see you. There’s been a breach in the SNCF[2] databases. Someone hacked into the passenger lists for Paris-Marseille and Paris-Le Havre. The dates match your travels."

A chill runs through me. He continues,

"Worse, an hour ago, our systems detected a deep dive into Claire Dumont. They’re tracing you."

Claire Dumont. My cover identity.

"We activated the Phoenix Protocol immediately. You need to erase any trace that could link you to Claire Dumont. Your current phone has already been wiped and blocked remotely." He hands me a new smartphone.

"New number, new data. You’ll receive your new identity by tomorrow morning. In the meantime, be careful."

Then, he slips back inside.

A cold sweat trickles down my spine, making my silk dress cling to my skin. They’re looking for me. I need to stay calm, think rationally. My life depends on it. Maybe not just mine.

"Okay, Sophia, get it together," I murmur, taking a deep breath. "You get five minutes to panic. Then, you take your life back into your own hands."