Chapter 3
The heavy oak double doors of the conservatory swung open with a soft, expensive creak that signaled the entrance of thirty-two-year-old Victoria.
She glided into the room wearing a designer silk loungewear set, her blonde hair styled to absolute perfection and smelling of expensive perfume.
"Richard, darling, you're back early from the Wall Street summit; why didn't you let me know so I could prepare dinner?" Victoria purred smoothly.
She paused midway across the Persian rug as she noticed Richard standing by the window with his dark, unblinking eyes locked onto her.
Sophie whimpered softly against the nanny who had just stepped in to assist, burying her face into a soft blanket to hide.
Victoria’s immaculate smile flickered for a fraction of a second before she plastered back on her practiced, saccharine socialite expression.
"What is all this fuss about? Is the doctor checking on Sophie's usual theatrical tummy aches again?" Victoria asked with feigned amusement.
Richard did not move an inch, his tall frame casting a long, ominous shadow across the sunlit floorboards of the conservatory.
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"Shut your mouth, Victoria," Richard said quietly, his voice cutting through the ambient silence like a razor-sharp surgical scalpel.
Victoria’s eyebrows arched in haughty offense as she took an assertive step forward, her fingers twitching against her silk sash.
