Amy’s POV
I walk slowly down the long, gleaming hallway, my bare feet sinking into the plush cream rug. The house is quiet, almost unnervingly so, except for the faint hum of the central air conditioning.
My eyes move from wall to wall, and I feel a strange pull in my chest. Kael has done it. He has completely replaced every picture of his late wife with me.
My image now dominates every frame, every corner of this mansion. Some pictures are of me smiling at charity events, others are candid shots of me laughing, working, existing. He even framed that one photo of me wearing a red dress, the one I had always secretly hated because I thought my smile looked fake.
I swallow hard, my throat dry as I trace a fingertip over one of the frames.
“Beautiful,” Kael’s deep voice says behind me, s
