Forgiveness had never been one of Carlos’s strengths. Especially not when a woman was involved. One way or another. And what María José had done—he could only see it as a grave betrayal. His lover had played him, made a fool of him.

"I brought you some macarons," María José purred into Carlos’s ear.

That could only mean one thing: the retired pastry chef was in the mood for a little mischief. The elderly woman was far too shy to openly express her desires.

"Hey, my friend." Dajana tapped on the glass tabletop of the German family’s garden table. "Are you home?"

But it wasn’t Viktoria who appeared in the open terrace door—it was Günter.

"Can I help you?" the man asked curtly.

"I came to see Viktoria," Dajana smiled.

The girls’ shrieking was getting on Pauline’s nerves, too. She lay on the sun lounger with her eyes closed. The low rattan footstool had been serving as a garden nightstand since morning, where the lady of the house had placed bottled water and painkillers.

Viktoria couldn’t wait to tell Günter what she had learned about the Slovaks. He could finally relax, and she could make friends. A married couple running an accounting business—her husband wouldn’t object to that, even though she understood his concerns.

Ludmilla and María José observed the hardworking cleaning women from the upstairs bedroom of the elderly German lady.

“Why are they doing this?” the pastry chef asked in confusion.

“Because you overreacted,” Ludmilla replied indifferently.

“I feel sorry for that Dajana,” Viktoria said, scratching her head as she watched her husband bustling around the grill.

“It’s not such a big deal to break something.”

“On María José’s terrace? Where her little dog runs around with its tiny paws?”

Adrian watched longingly as Noud and Carlos, presumably arguing, stood together. What could be causing the tension between the neighbors who used to regularly dine at each other’s places? The Slovak man couldn’t decide what he envied more: the company or the argument.

Carlos sat up in bed, startled. The full moon's light illuminated the entire bedroom, so he didn’t need to turn on the night lamp. With his heart pounding in his throat, he yanked open the wardrobe door. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

“What do you think, Noud? What’s all this about?” Bernard asked once the courtyard of the complex had finally quieted down.

“To be honest, I have no idea. But I wouldn’t want to be in Ted’s shoes. By the way, I think he suspects us.”