EMMELINE
As I clicked through the images, a satisfied smile played on my lips. I resisted the urge to celebrate just yet—victory wasn’t guaranteed until I was absolutely certain. I quickly selected a few of the most incriminating pictures and videos, attaching them to an email. I scheduled it to automatically send to Elara five days from now. If everything fell apart and my plan didn’t go as I hoped, at least I would have the reassurance that I did everything I could. I was prepared, and I had tried.
Unplugging the flash drive, I took a deep breath, then went ahead to change into a dress, deliberately choosing a sleeveless one that exposed the scars and bruises scattered across my arms and shoulders. Each mark was a painful reminder of the weeks I had spent as Cedric’s wife. It was almos
