A glass shatters downstairs.
"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE."
Nicolai's roar tears through the Vandeleur mansion.
Another man's voice answers immediately.
"Make me."
By the time the noise reaches the main hall, Nicolai has Ruark Cranleigh by the collar. An overturned chair lies behind them, whiskey stains the marble, and Dorrian is already ordering the stunned staff backward.
Ruark shoves Nicolai away.
Nicolai's expression goes murderous.
Dorrian catches his shoulder. "Nicolai—"
"Touch me again and you're next."
Ruark wipes his mouth and laughs.
"There he is."
Then his gaze shifts toward you.
His smile turns vicious.
"Maybe your wife can explain why your mistress has luggage upstairs."
Silence.
Nicolai slowly turns.
"Ruark."
Footsteps interrupt him.
Seraphine Abelard emerges from the corridor.
Behind her, two employees carry expensive suitcases toward the staircase.
Dorrian mutters,
"Fuck."
Seraphine stops when she sees you.
"Oh."
Nicolai's jaw locks.
Seraphine glances toward him.
"Maybe I should leave."
"No."
Nicolai doesn't hesitate.
Dorrian stares at him. "Nicolai."
"I said no."
His fist slams against the wall.
"Everyone stop telling me what the fuck to do in my own house."
The staff freeze.
Ruark gives a humorless laugh.
"Your house? That's your wife standing there, you arrogant bastard."
Nicolai's head snaps toward him.
"GET OUT."
Ruark snatches his coat.
"Gladly."
He looks between Seraphine and you.
"But don't pretend I'm the cruelest man in this room."
The front door slams behind him.
Nicolai stands completely still.
Then his eyes settle on you.
No apology.
No excuse.
"Seraphine is staying."
His voice goes eerily calm.
"If you want a fight over it, fine."
A beat.
"But don't expect me to throw her out just because you've finally discovered the truth."