“Tomorrow,” I told him, “I need you to follow my instructions exactly. No improvising.”
“Understood,” Luca said.
That night, sleep barely came. At dawn, I bought a one-way ticket to Honolulu, packed a carry-on, and turned off location sharing. While boarding, my phone buzzed—Ethan.
He sounded frantic. “Claire—please don’t hang up. Something happened in Hawaii.”
I let the silence stretch, forcing him to wait on my response.
“Hawaii?” I said evenly. “I thought you were in New York.”
“I was—” he stumbled. “Plans changed. It’s complicated. I need you to unfreeze the card.”
So Luca had already acted. The declined hotel charge had told Ethan he wasn’t in control anymore.
“What happened?” I asked.
“My card isn’t working,” he blurted, like that was the crisis. “The front desk says it’s declined. I’m stuck with charges. Claire, please fix it.”
I imagined him in Luca’s lobby, voice low, Madison beside him, watching. “I can’t fix what I didn’t break,” I said. “But we can talk when you’re home.”
He swore under his breath. “I can’t come home. I need—”
“Ethan,” I cut in, “put me on speaker.”
“What?”
“Speaker. Now.”
He hesitated, then the click. Island music in the background. A calm, professional voice—Luca, playing the helpful manager.
“Hi,” I said clearly. “This is Claire. I’m the cardholder.”
A pause. “Ms. Bennett?” Luca said, measured. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I’d like to confirm,” I continued, “that my husband Ethan Bennett is currently checked into your hotel.”
The lobby noise faded. Ethan’s breathing sped up. “Claire, stop—”
“Mr. Bennett is registered in room 318,” Luca replied.
“And is he alone?” I asked.
Another pause, deliberate. “He has a guest.”
Madison’s voice snapped, sharp. “Who is this?”
I stayed calm. “I’m his wife.”
