The mansion was quiet that morning, sunlight spilling through the wide windows and painting the marble floor in soft gold. Cassandra stretched lazily on the king-sized bed, her silk robe sliding down her shoulder. She reached across the bed, but Nathaniel was gone.
A smile touched her lips. He was always up early these days, busy with the company, busy trying to keep everything in control. Cassandra didn’t mind. The less time he spent watching her, the more time she had to weave her plans.
She rose from the bed and walked to the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her—flawless skin, painted lips, hair falling in waves. She tilted her head and whispered to herself, “This is the life I deserve.”
Not the small life Savannah once had with Nathaniel. Not the weak woman who cooked, cl
