Cindy
The opulence of the grand ballroom still lingered in my mind—the shimmering chandeliers, the delicate aroma of imported roses, and the haunting image of Kendrick’s unwavering gaze fixed solely on Kimberly. That night had been a dagger to my heart, each moment a reminder of what I had lost.
I couldn’t sleep. The memory of Kendrick’s announcement echoed in my ears: “She carries my heir.” The words felt like a cruel joke, a slap in the face.
How could he bestow such honor upon her?
I had been by his side, shared his bed, and yet, he had never looked at me the way he looked at her.
Driven by a mix of desperation and fury, I found myself standing outside Kendrick’s study the next morning. The heavy oak door loomed before me, a barrier to the man who once sought my company.
I knock
