Victoria lingered by the champagne tower, laughing too loud at some hedge-fund prince’s attempt at wit, but her eyes kept finding them across the room. She’d planted her seed of doubt and was waiting to watch it bloom into something that would tear them apart from the inside.

He pulled Isobel closer, lowering his head until his breath warmed her ear. “She’s lying, darlin’. Whatever she told you—it’s bullshit wrapped in designer perfume.”

Isobel maintained her smile—the kind ...