Elena’s POV.
I stumbled back down the grand staircase, my knees barely holding my weight. My hands trembled against the cold railing as hot, blinding tears spilled down my face.
The image was seared into the back of my eyelids—Biana, naked, draped over Raymond, her fingers tangled in his hair, the almost-evil, triumphant look on her face when she peered back at me.
A sudden, violent wave of nausea surged in my chest. I barely made it past the lower hall, clutching my stomach as my heart shattered into a million pieces. The air in the mansion felt thick, toxic, and impossible to breathe in. Every shadow in the corridor seemed to mock my gullibility.
I couldn’t go back to the sitting room. I couldn’t face anyone right now and pretend that everything was okay. Because nothing was.
Spot
