VANESSA'S POV~
The city lights glowed dimly through the slightly raised curtained windows of my house, casting a cold and muted light across the room. I sat in an oversized leather armchair, cradling a glass of dark red wine in my hand.
I barely noticed the wine's taste as I swirled it absently , keeping my gaze fixed on the view outside, my thoughts elsewhere—on Michael, Isabella, and my long-planned scheme to finally have what i believed should have always been mine.
A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts, and i allowed myself a small, satisfied smile.
Punctual, as always.
"Come in," i called, my voice smooth, almost purring.
