Right in front of Emily Blair, Tristan Davis slipped the rose back into his pocket, leaning in with a teasing tilt to his lips. "Are you jealous?"

Emily shot him a side glance, arching a brow. "Wishful thinking."

Tristan's eyebrow quirked. "And why's that so far-fetched?"

He pulled the rose out again and twirled it under her nose. "You want me to toss this rose, don't you?"

Emily jerked her chin toward a crowd not far off. "You could do what they're doing."

Tristan followed her gaze. In the throng, Tanner Miller had a rose stem between his teeth, while a sultry woman leaned in, bit off the flower, and passed it to the next

man.

Tristan's expression soured. With a huff, he tossed the rose into Emily's hands. "I brought this for you."

She arched a brow and picked up the rose. "Didn't know you had it in you."

He propped his hand behind his head, feigning nonchalance. "Just grabbed it on the way."

Emily bit back a smile.

She turned to him, her voice light. "This is getting a little dull. Mind if we leave early?"

"Where do you want to go?" Tristan asked.

"Anywhere. It's been ages since I was last home."

Tristan stood. "Alright, let me tell the others."

With nowhere particular to be, Emily found a cozy little restaurant by the sea. They chatted idly for a while, the hum of weekend crowds filling the air.

Suddenly, Tristan held out his phone to her. “This came in from Aetheria. It's about Benjamin Gomez-thought you'd want to see."

“Benjamin Gomez?" Emily took the phone, eyes narrowing as she studied the screen.

The photo showed Benjamin Gomez walking down a city street with a woman, the shot taken from the side. The woman was half-hidden behind Benjamin, her head down, hair loose, a mask covering her face her features impossible to make out. There were several similar photos, all snapped in different locations.

So Benjamin always had this woman with him.

Tristan said, "Ever since Benjamin got back, she's been around-like she appeared out of thin air. Before, no one had seen her. When she disappeared for a while, Benjamin was on his own. But when she's there, she's always masked up. I doubt anyone but Benjamin has seen her face."

Emily frowned. "She's been by his side this long, and no one's figured out who she is?"

Tristan shook his head. "He's kept her well protected."

Emily slid the phone back across the table.

She and Tristan exchanged a look—both understanding the same, unspoken thought.

Isabella Austin's death had been abrupt, happening just as the police were about to close the Matthew Ross case. Too convenient, too coincidental. They'd never seen Isabella's body, not once since the news broke.

And Benjamin had never treated any woman-other than Isabella—with such singular attention.

A bold theory took shape in Emily's mind. Benjamin must have orchestrated some elaborate deception. The mysterious woman at his side... had to be Isabella Austin.

"If it really is Isabella,” Emily said quietly, “she'll show up again. All we have to do is wait."

The restaurant was bustling, the doors constantly swinging open as new customers arrived.

On impulse, Emily looked up, her gaze drawn to the latest group entering.

Her eyes locked with a pair of deep, midnight-dark eyes across the room.