POV: Fiona
I stood frozen in the hallway, staring at the door of the master suite.
The oak door was thick and sound-dampened, but it didn't matter. The rhythmic creaking of the wood and the high, breathy sounds of Camilla’s voice drifted out into the silence of the mansion.
Ten minutes ago, I thought I was untouchable.
I had walked into this house two hours earlier. I'd looked at the portraits on the wall and felt nothing. I'd walked past the study where Maxwell usually got a glass of whiskey and felt nothing. I thought the armor I had built around myself was completely impenetrable. I thought I only felt cold, numb disgust for the man inside that room.
I was wrong.
As I stood there listening to my husband with another woman, a sharp pain ripped straight through my chest. It was
