With Marcus gone, Victoria walked across the lawn to the Main House. It felt huge and imposing, a mausoleum compared to the safehouse. She walked up the grand staircase, her hand trailing on the banister, memories of her first arrival under Lady Beatrice’s threats echoing in her mind.
She entered the master bedroom. It smelled of William–cedar and rain–but there was a foreign scent, too. Vanilla and floral perfume. Sophie’s perfume.
Victoria walked to the nightstand. There, sitting on the polished wood, was the platinum wedding band Sophie had left behind.
Victoria picked it up. It was heavy.
“You replaced me,” she whispered to the empty room.
William appeared in the doorway, breathless from chasing her. He saw the ring in her hand and froze.
“Victoria, please,” he started. “I thought you were dead. I was trying to survive.”
“You didn’t just survive, William. You married her,” Victoria said, her voice cold. The “Miracle” of her return was instantly tarnished by the reality of his betrayal. “I fought my way back from the dead, and I came home to find another woman in my bed wearing my husband’s ring.”