n a video call, walking through the penthouse. Sophia' s influence was already apparen

s redecorating. She finds some of our ol

– photographs of us, small gifts I' d given him, even

fore it goes in the trash?

background, a smug sm

ension. "Your taste is just so... simple." She was a few years

Sophia," I said, my vo

ce darkene

apped. "You're being ungrateful.

cript he used whenever I failed to mee

asterstroke

I had an idea. A way to show everyone we' re still mov

site, custom-made, a cloud of silk and lace he' d commissioned months ag

s glittering with malice. "Sophia thinks it would be a lovely ge

ched. The dre

pain in my eyes because his next

harity. You should be eternally grateful for the mere possibility of becoming Mrs. B

ent by his side, the loyalty, the quiet sacrifices – they meant nothing. I was, and always had been, expendable. The years of discreetly hand