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As I passed him, Pasco’s hand gripped my arm as though to hold me in place. “Don’t go with him, Noura. You should avoid him when he’s like this. He has no manners.”

My husband stormed back into the room. “Oh please,” he scoffed. “Did you think I was inviting her to come with me? Did you think I was going to willingly spend time with my wife? Get a clue. I have other plans.”

Well, wasn’t that sweet?

He left without another word.

After an awkward silence, Pasco spoke, “I know that what I did seems extreme. I’ve suffered the wrath of my whole family because of it. But you have to understand, or at least hear, where I’m coming from.

I didn’t miss the irony that he felt the need to explain this to me of all people, but I just listened.

“Banks was always my most responsible son,” he continued. “And the most stubborn. Did you know that he amassed his own fortune before he was twenty-one? He’s an absolute wiz at sniffing out solid real estate investments. Everyone could see he was going to go very far.” He paused. “And then he met her.”

I knew the her he was talking about. She was tattooed in beauty on my husband’s back. His ex-fiancée. Fatima.

“Do you know who she is?” he asked.

My face was so stiff it felt like it might crack. It’d been a mask of utter stoicism since my husband’s arrival and short departure. A defense mechanism I’d learned for my trade. Unlike my roiling gut, my voice was smooth and turmoil-free as I replied, “I do.”

“She was a sickness in his brain from the start,” Pasco continued. “To this day, he has a total blind spot when it comes to her. And the sad fact is that nothing but ruin was ever going to come of it. She was using him. I told him so. He wouldn’t listen, even with all the red flags. She comes from a very bad family, something he wasn’t concerned about at all. And he knew I disapproved. That’s why they got engaged behind my back. When I found out, I was concerned. Frustrated. Livid. I did something I’m not proud of.” He took a deep breath and shared a look with his wife. She appeared sad, him remorseful.

I just listened, completely silent.

“I went to Fatima,” he continued his rant. “Her not him. I told her that if they married, he’d be disinherited. He could keep what money he’d earned himself, which was not insubstantial, but nothing else. Ever. Not a dime from his family for as long as they were together. For her part, she didn’t leave him right away. Instead she convinced him to go into business with her father. He invested everything, thinking he was betting on their future.” His elegant hands were on the table clenched into fists. “We still haven’t ironed out all the details, but here’s what we know: The money vanished. All of it. He lost everything. That’s the kind of family she comes from. The kind that makes money disappear.

“And people,” Diana added with unexpected vehemence. There was a bitter twist to her mouth I’d never witnessed before. “They make people disappear as well. They’re nothing but common thugs.”

Pasco just nodded like that was secondary to the rest, continuing, “Within a month, she’d left him and married someone else. A French Count, as it happens. A billionaire, of course. Banks took it badly, as you can imagine. After that it was clear my son was heading in the wrong direction. He had been for a while. He wouldn’t listen to anyone, bullheaded boy. Even after she married someone else, it was clear they were carrying on for God only knows how long. And he was not getting better. When an opportunity arose, I grasped it. He’d sniffed out a golden real estate venture and came to me for the money. But I wouldn’t give it to him without a condition: Get married to someone who was not Fatima. He could have chosen anyone, an old girlfriend, a new one. The Bride Catalogue was his idea. He wanted someone who knew the score.

I know my actions seem drastic, but I was desperate. I felt that I had to interfere in his life. To shake it up a bit. Anything was better than leaving it to him.” He shrugged eloquently. “He won’t forgive me. Truth be told, I figured there was a good chance your marriage wouldn’t last, but anything to shift his attention away from that poisonous woman was enough for me. I apologize that you were dragged into it.”

“Please don’t apologize,” I said, voice level but sincere nonetheless. “I wasn’t dragged. I’m here of my own volition. I knew there was little chance any of this would be smooth.”

My words seemed to calm my agitated father-in-law. He nodded once, twice. “You’re more than we could have hoped for. You two could suit very well. I wish my stubborn son could see it.”

“I wish that too,” I said, with absolute, uncomfortable candor. “And thank you for sharing all of this. I think I can understand his behavior a little better now. It helps.”

We said our goodbyes, and I left.

I was surprised to run into my husband at the elevator. I’d thought he’d be long gone. He was using the wall to prop himself up. I couldn’t tell if he was really that drunk or if he was just that pissed off.

“Do you need help?” I asked him calmly, pushing the button to go down.

He straightened and glared at me. “Gold digger,” he spat out. So it was both.

The car arrived and I stepped inside, looking straight ahead. I was so sick of his judgements. His double standards. Finally, I snapped. “I may be a gold digger,” I said succinctly. “But you’re a spoiled rich boy. I heard what your father said about your startup capital. You do know that means that you married me for exactly the same reason that I married you. You’re a hypocrite judging me like that for doing the same thing you are.”

I geared myself for his reaction before stealing a glance.

He looked like I’d slapped him. And I had. Not literally but with the truth.

And shock of all shocks, I’d left him speechless.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

The VS fashion show happened the next evening. I felt more nerves than I had in a long while on the job.