The penthouse was quiet, but Sophie’s mind was screaming. She sat at the small desk in the guest room, her hand shaking as she pressed the pen to the paper.
*William,* she wrote, the ink blurring under a falling tear. *I am not who you think I am. I was sent by Lady Beatrice. I took her money to save my father, but I stayed because I fell in love with you and Leo. I am so sorry.*
She folded the note into a small square. It was a confession that would end her relationship, but it was the only way to save him from the public humiliation Cynthia was planning.
She walked into the hallway where William’s tuxedo jacket hung on the valet stand. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she slipped the paper into the inner breast pocket, right next to the bulge of the velvet ring box.
“Read it,” she prayed silently to the empty air. “Please, find it and read it before the cameras roll.”