The largest scar had been covered with a vibrant butterfly tattoo across her thin shoulder blade—so strikingly beautiful it could steal one’s breath.
“Baby, I’ve missed you so damn much these three years.”
Adrian kissed her, his hand pressed gently against her abdomen as though terrified of causing her pain.
I couldn’t even remember the last time Adrian and I had shared a bed.
He was always taking calls late at night, hiding away in his study, never returning to our room.
The suitcase I had packed for him before his trip still sat boldly beside our bed.
Inside it was our wedding photo—he took it everywhere, and people said he loved me to death.
But was it only so I could witness his lust with another woman?
Hatred burned through me, but I forced myself to stay on the sofa, gritting my teeth as I watched the video until the very end.
When spring faded, Clara leaned close to the camera, smiling triumphantly.
“Well, Victoria?”
“You stabbed me eighteen times back then. Consider this stab my payback—does it hurt enough?”
She had only disappeared from Adrian’s sight for a few moments, yet the man was already panicked, calling out her name and clenching his fists.