Chapter 3
I poured two fresh flutes of champagne onto a silver service tray, smoothing down my tailored navy apron before stepping through the galley curtain.
I walked smoothly down the carpeted aisle of the business-class cabin, stopping right beside seats 2A and 2B with a serene, professional smile.
“More champagne, Mr. Mercer?” I asked smoothly, setting the crystal flute onto Julian’s side table with absolute composure.
Julian flinched slightly, his eyes narrowing as he searched my face for any sign of impending tears, screaming, or emotional breakdown.
He was accustomed to my quiet loyalty, my deep family values, and the endless patience I had shown him throughout our ten-year marriage.
He expected me to make a dramatic scene in front of the high-net-worth passengers sitting in first class—a scene he could use to prove I was unstable.
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“Elena,” Julian muttered in a low, warning tone, leaning away from Chloe so she wouldn't hear his whispered threat.
“We will discuss our domestic arrangements at the hotel in Madrid. Do not make a spectacle of yourself on this aircraft.”
