The Paradise That Turned on Him
The tropical sun beat down on white sands, painting the scene with a false sense of calm. Mark lounged on a designer towel, eyes on the turquoise waves. Beside him, Elena stretched out like she owned the beach, her skin gleaming, a faint, knowing smile playing across her lips—the smile of someone used to getting away with everything.
Propping herself on one elbow, she asked, teasing but sharp: “And that wife of yours… she really doesn’t suspect a thing?”
Mark shrugged lazily. “No. She doesn’t need to.”
Elena’s gaze darkened. “She’s home, managing the kids, the bills… and you’re here with me, sipping cocktails. Not a hint of doubt?”
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