Iris continued before he could speak.
“And, of course, helping him keep two very different parts of his life running on schedule.”
The silence was immediate.
It seemed to travel from table to table.
Iris looked at Adrian.
Her smile remained.
But there was no warmth in her eyes now.
“For months, I was under the impression that Wednesday afternoons were reserved for private investor meetings.”
She paused.
“Apparently, I was right about only one of those words.”
A shocked laugh escaped someone near the back.
Then stopped.
Adrian stood.
“Iris.”
She turned toward him.
“Yes?”
His face had gone pale.
“Can we speak privately?”
She looked at the microphone.
Then at him.
“Of course.”
For one terrible second, he seemed relieved.
Then she continued.
“After I’ve finished.”
Celia pushed back her chair.
It scraped against the polished floor.
Several people turned.
She looked toward the exit.
Iris watched her.
“Celia, please don’t leave.”
The words were gentle.
That made them worse.
Celia froze.
Iris glanced toward the guests.
“I wouldn’t want you to miss this. Adrian specifically requested that you sit at the VIP table.”
A low murmur moved through the room.
Celia’s face had lost its colour.
She looked toward Adrian.
He did not look back.
Iris noticed.
For months, Celia had believed Adrian would protect her if anything went wrong.
Now, in front of the people whose approval mattered to him, he could scarcely acknowledge her existence.
Iris continued.
“I should also thank you for your assistance with the jewellery.”
Celia stared.
The room was silent.
Iris raised her left hand.
Her wedding ring shone beneath the ballroom lights.
“Apparently, you were kind enough to try on one of the designs before it was finalised.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
The ring incident had been discovered during the investigation.
Celia had worn a sample ring from the jeweller during a fitting Adrian arranged, part of an increasingly elaborate game in which he tested gifts for Iris through his mistress while simultaneously buying jewellery for Celia.
It had seemed harmless to him.
A practical convenience.
To Iris, it had become one of the most revealing details of the affair.
He had allowed another woman to participate in the private rituals of their wedding while presenting that involvement as ordinary professional assistance.
Iris looked toward Celia.
“Very thoughtful.”
Celia covered her mouth.
Adrian began walking toward the stage.
He reached the steps just as Iris placed her champagne on the lectern.
She watched him approach.
He was still handsome.
Still beautifully dressed.
Still capable of looking distressed in a way that made other people want to reassure him.
He reached for the microphone.
“Iris, you’ve had too much champagne. Let’s go somewhere quiet.”
The words were low, intended for her.
But the microphone picked them up.
A few people gasped.
Iris took one step backwards.
Then raised her free hand between them.
Not dramatically.
Just enough to stop him.
Adrian froze.
She looked at him.
For a moment, the expression on her face was almost curious.
Then she spoke into the microphone.
“Are you sorry you betrayed me, Adrian?”
He stared.
She tilted her head slightly.
“Or are you sorry you were careless enough to let me find out?”
The question hung in the air.
He opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Iris waited.
He glanced toward the guests.
Then toward Richard.
For the first time that evening, the extent of the audience seemed to register.
Every director.
Every investor.
Every person whose respect he had cultivated.
Iris watched him understand.
Then she smiled.
A small, almost regretful smile.
“Don’t confuse the two.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“Please.”
His voice cracked.
“Whatever you think you know, we can discuss it.”
Iris looked at him.
“That’s the problem.”
He frowned.
“You’ve spent months making sure every conversation happens somewhere convenient for you.”
He reached toward her arm.
She moved back.
