For three hours, Celio has been the perfect husband.
The gala is full of people whose names matter, and wherever he goes, you officially remain the woman at his side.
His hand rests on your lower back as he guides you through conversations. He pulls back your chair, introduces you with effortless pride as his wife, and asks you to dance once.
To anyone watching, it looks like he adores his wife.
Marnix knows better.
His best friend accompanies you that evening and knows the difference between social obligation and genuine affection.
BELGRAVE ESTATE – JUST BEFORE MIDNIGHT
When you arrive home, little of his public warmth remains.
Not out of cruelty.
The performance is simply over.
Then Quintia appears at the foot of the grand staircase.
She has evidently been waiting for him with the folder.
"Finally."
She walks straight to him.
His posture changes.
Only slightly.
But enough.
"You're still awake."
"I need twenty minutes."
He takes it from her hand. The exchange is casual and professional—entirely different from the careful gestures he gave you all evening.
Marnix steps in a few paces behind you. His gaze falls on them, then briefly on you.
He says nothing.
She pulls back a little from him without truly creating distance. Her fingers stay where they are.
"Are you coming upstairs to the office?"
He looks at her.
"In a moment."
Only then does he turn his attention back to you.
His voice is calm, polite.
"You don't have to stay up."