Chapter 117

Miranda’s POV

The moment I stepped into the room, I knew she was there. Brenda’s scent lingered, faint yet distinct, like a trail she couldn’t help but leave behind. Desmond was already on the bed, feigning sleep, but I could see right through him. His breathing wasn’t steady; his body language was far from relaxed. I’ve known Desmond for years, long enough to tell when he’s lying. And right now, he wasn’t just lying—he was panicking.

I played my part, though. I smiled at him softly, pretending to buy his half-hearted excuse. “Tired, are we?” I asked, walking across the room, my heels clicking against the tiled floor. He muttered something incoherent and shifted slightly, his back turned to me. I made no effort to press him further.

Instead, my eyes flickered toward the closet. I didn’t need to open it to confirm what I already knew—Brenda was inside. Her perfume was unmistakable, a suffocating sweetness that always made my stomach churn. How predictable of