"She's a relative of the Fernandez family. Just returned to the country. Apparently, she's hoping to break into the music industry," Tilda replied.

Corrine nodded, rummaging through her handbag. After a moment, she pulled out a CD and signed it with a flourish.

"A relative of the Fernandez family, huh?"

"She's Lyndon's cousin," Tilda replied, watching her sign. "Very sweet.. cute, even."

But the thought of that recording Sloane sent soured her mood.

No matter her ties to Lyndon, Tilda wasn't about to let Rita Manipulate her and Lyndon like fools.

Corrine handed her the signed CD. Tilda slipped it into her bag, regaining her composure.

"She's also looking to be Glenn Cortez's student. But I heard he's no longer taking students. Do you know him? Could you maybe connect them?" Tilda threw in with a casual air.

Corrine shot her a skeptical look. "You make that sound way too easy. Do you know how highly respected Mr. Cortez is? Why are you going out of your way for a distant relative of your husband?"

Tilda held her glass in both hands, gaze lowered. "Because.. she helped me."

Corrine tilted her head. "What happened?"

Tilda didn't answer right away. Instead, she pulled out her phone and played the recording Sloane had sent.

Corrine listened closely. By the time it ended, her expression had shifted from curiosity to shock—and then anger.

"This.." Corrine was still trying to process what she'd just heard.

Tilda set her teacup down and said calmly, "Last week, I went with Lyndon to meet some client. Something happened while we were there.."

She gave Corrine a brief but clear rundown of the incident at the holiday resort.

Corrine listened closely, her expression shifting from confusion to disbelief—and then to full-blown outrage.

"Wait a minute. Are you telling me Rita actually orchestrated that? She got Ellis to set you up with a client's assistant—on purpose—just so she could improve your husband's impression of her?"

Tilda didn't answer. She simply lifted her glass and took a quiet sip.

Corrine's jaw clenched. "Have you told your husband?" Tilda hesitated. "Not yet."

Corrine narrowed her eyes. "Why the hell not?

Don't tell me you two are fighting again?" Tilda didn't respond, her face unreadable.

Corrine leaned in, brows furrowed. "Tilda, you can't be serious. Now? Of all times? Arguing with your husband essentially presents Rita with an opportunity to get close to him. Come on, wise up!"

Tilda gripped her phone tighter, lips pressed into a thin line.