Xavier released her, and she stumbled back two steps. Her gaze inadvertently drifted downward, and as the reality of his physical response registered, a wave of flushed embarrassment painted her features.
The man's expression darkened thunderously. "Get out!"
Lydia practically scrambled out of the VIP room, nearly crashing into Griffin. She turned in shock just as Frederick emerged from Penelope's office.
"Where were you?" Frederick asked coldly.
A chill raced down her spine.
Griffin answered first. "I found her in the restroom, sir."
Lydia shot Griffin a stunned look. Why was he covering for her? Seeing him standing there with a perfectly neutral expression, she quickly looked away.
An hour later, her therapy session wrapped up, and Frederick told her it was time to go home.
Since she needed to gather evidence of their affair, she had no choice but to stay close to him. No matter how violently she despised it, she had to endure.
As soon as they walked out, Frederick took a call and ordered the driver to head to The Pulse.
She trailed behind him into the chaotic club booth.
"Freddie, finally! Get your little terror out of here," someone shouted over the music as they walked in.
Another socialite nudged Sierra, who was slumped over the table. "Your brother-in-law ditched your sister for you again. He clearly cares about you, so stop moping."
Two casual remarks painted the entire disgusting reality of their affair for everyone to see.
Lydia stopped in the doorway. She watched as Frederick ignored the lighthearted teasing, leaned down, and scooped Sierra up in a princess carry. Sierra's flushed, beautiful face nuzzled into his neck as her soft arms wrapped around him. Her bright red lipstick smeared a vivid stain onto his crisp white collar.
"Mrs. Foster!" someone suddenly gasped.
The entire booth went dead silent. A dozen pairs of horrified eyes snapped to her face.
A glass slipped from someone's hand and shattered against the floor.
The sound snapped her back to reality.

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