As Michael introduced Sofia, his voice carried an air of entitlement, as if he expected acceptance without question. The woman at his side shifted, offering a timid smile to the stunned faces around the table. My heart pounded in my chest, but I maintained my composure. I had rehearsed this moment a thousand times in my mind, ever since the first hint of betrayal clawed at my intuition.
“Welcome, Sofia,” I said, my voice steady and firm. My eyes met hers, and for a brief moment, I saw vulnerability behind her poised facade. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Michael’s eyes flickered with surprise, perhaps expecting a different reaction—anger, tears, an unraveling. Instead, I maintained the calm exterior of a gracious hostess, a role I had perfected over the years.
