"Vicente,"
Camilla walked over and took a seat opposite Vicente.
She lifted her gaze to study the pair before her, her lips curling into a smile devoid of any warmth.
"And who might this be?"
Her voice, though soft, carried an unmistakable edge of interrogation.
Vicente knew Camilla had misunderstood. Frowning, he opened his mouth to explain.
"She's—"
But he was abruptly cut off.
The striking woman's eyes lit up at the sight of Camilla.
Suddenly rising from her seat, she slid in beside Camilla and extended a hand with exaggerated enthusiasm.
"Hey there, gorgeous.
I'm Helena."
Helena?
Camilla's brows furrowed slightly at the woman's slightly husky voice and distinctly masculine name.
A strange feeling prickled at the back of her mind.
Before she could react, Vicente's deep, icy voice cut through the air once more.
"Don't say I didn't warn you.
Ms. Rodriguez's husband makes me look like a saint.
