Morning came. Riana stretched lazily over the bed at Winters mansion. Her eyes blinked open and saw the windows showing the sky painting in streaks of coral and gold.
It was still quiet. Too early in the morning. Inside, the household still slept, the scent of old wood and expensive perfume lingering in the quiet room and halls. Riana got up and slipped through them like a ghost.
Wesley was not in the room. Obviously. ‘He was most likely found a way to sneak out from the mansion to crawl under his mistress’ skirt.’ She thought.
She moved with practiced grace, a habit from years of trying not to disturb a husband who hated her presence and a father who loved control. Her heels dangled in one hand, her purse in the other. She paused only once, by the door of the guest room where h
