Rachel’s pov
I unlocked the front door of my penthouse and walked inside, dropping my designer handbag onto the marble console table. The apartment was completely silent, but my mind was spinning at maximum speed. I threw off my coat and sat down on the leather sofa, totally lost in thought about the conversation between me and Vincent at the private clinic. I could not stop thinking about how Vincent just chose not to believe Camilla’s dramatic protests in the driveway. It was highly unusual to me because the old Vincent I knew would always blindly choose Camilla over anyone else in the world. He had spent years defending her behavior, so I never actually expected it that he would just choose my side of the story tonight.
As I stared at the floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the
