Chapter 18

The Maldives night stretched dark and quiet, stars sharp over the beach. Elena sat cross-legged on a lounge chair outside a small guest bungalow, laptop glowing in her lap. She’d stormed out hours ago, renting the place to get space from Derek. Her hoodie hung loose, hair messy from the wind. A half-empty beer sat beside her, condensation pooling on the wood. She was mad—mad at Vanessa, mad at Derek, mad at the whole damn mess. Her phone buzzed—Derek again: We need to talk. She ignored it, same as the last three. Her focus stayed on the screen. Sandra’s PI had sent a file—Vanessa’s dirt, raw and unfiltered. Elena clicked it open, eyes narrowing as she scrolled.