The Torres Residence

Marjorie Torres arrived with her purse tucked under one arm and satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. It was her first visit since Gregory’s divorce, and truthfully, she was enjoying the peace of not having to endure Isabelle’s cold politeness anymore.

“Gregory,” she called smoothly as she entered the sitting room, her heels tapping lightly against the floor. “You didn’t tell me Tiffany was out.”

Gregory looked up from the tablet in his hand. “She went ...