The opulent silence of the Rosewood Hotel suite felt like a judgment. Bailee's heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the hum of the city outside. The housekeeper, bribed with a grand, had just closed the door behind her, leaving Bailee alone in the dimly lit room.

The only light spilled from the patio, where a woman's silhouette was etched against the twilight sky. It was Lorna, Caleb's assistant, draped in the silver dress Bailee had designed, a masterpiece stolen from her own shop.

Then, the bathroom door opened, and Caleb emerged, oblivious to her presence. A wave of nausea washed over Bailee as she pressed herself against the wall, desperate for the truth she knew would shatter her life. She listened, holding her breath, as Caleb's voice, followed by Lorna's purr, confirmed her worst fears.