The morning light filtered through the high glass ceiling of the private residential tower.
Clara stood near the entrance holding her six-month-old baby boy, Leo, close to her chest.
She adjusted the collar of her olive-green silk shirt and took a quiet breath to steady her nerves.
Her husband, Julian, had called late last night to claim he was trapped in meetings across the country.
He swore his flight from New York was delayed until late evening.
Yet his private vehicle had been spotted parked downstairs by the building concierge just twenty minutes ago.
Clara had walked down from their penthouse to see the truth for herself.
She stood under the large American flag that hung decoratively over the white marble foyer wall.
The quiet hum of the private elevator began to vibrate softly behind the closed steel doors.
A crisp electronic chime echoed softly off the polished stone floor.
The heavy doors slid open smoothly to reveal two people standing inside the elevator car.
Julian stepped out wearing a tailored brown three-piece suit that Clara had picked out for him last month.
Arm-in-arm with him was a woman in a bright turquoise dress holding a designer handbag.
Julian was smiling broadly until his eyes landed directly on Clara standing in the middle of the lobby.
His face froze instantly, his confident posture collapsing in an instant of sheer shock.
The woman beside him pulled her arm back quickly and looked between Julian and Clara with sharp eyes.
Mistress: Is that truly your wife?
Her voice bounced off the hard walls, full of sudden panic and sharp accusation.
Mistress: You promised you were in New York!
Julian swallowed hard and straightened his silk tie, attempting to regain his composure.
He glanced down at the baby in Clara's arms, whose wide blue eyes were staring blankly at the scene.
Instead of offering an explanation or showing remorse, Julian sneered coldly at his wife.
He reached deep into his inner suit jacket pocket and pulled out a thick stack of green banknotes.
Without a single word of apology, he flicked his wrist forcefully forward.
The hundred-dollar bills flew through the air, fluttering across the marble floor like autumn leaves.
A few notes brushed against little Leo’s soft baby blanket before falling to the cold floor.
Husband: Go home and take care of your own lunch!
Julian laughed mockingly as if he had just solved a minor inconvenience with spare change.