CHAPTER THIRTY ONE – SENT OUT OF THE HOUSE
Kayla parked the car and took a deep breath before stepping out. The penthouse felt cold and impersonal, the silence broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning. Yet, she could feel a presence – the lingering scent of her own perfume, a discarded shirt on the armchair.
Following the sound of laughter, she found its source – the kitchen. There, Lance and Lana were cooking, their bodies close as they stirred a pot, their laughter echoing off the marble countertops. An unsettling pang of betrayal tightened Kayla's chest.
As Kayla walked in, the laughter died down. Lance's face hardened, his smile replaced by a cold grimace. "Kayla," he said, his voice flat. "What brings you home early?"
Before Kayla could respond, Lana offered a brittle smile. "Hi, Kayla. Dinner smells delicious, doesn't it?"
Kayla forced a small smile in return. "It does," she managed, feeling out of place in this picture of domesticity.
"Well, I wouldn't want to intrude," Kayla continued, her voice barely a

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