Chapter 85

Miranda’s POV

My heart was pounding, each beat thudding like a drum in my chest as I opened the door to our bedroom. The sight that greeted me made my knees weaken, my breath catching in my throat. My husband, Desmond, the man I had fought my family for, the man I’d spent two years loving despite their warnings, was lying in our bed with my cousin—Brenda.

Brenda’s bare shoulders peeked out from beneath the sheets as she clutched them to her chest, her face flushed with embarrassment. Desmond didn’t even try to cover himself. Instead, he looked at me with wide eyes, his lips parting as though he had something to say. For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of my own breathing, sharp and ragged, as the betrayal of the scene before me sank in.

“Miranda... I can explain—” Desmond began, his tone calm yet pleading, as if he believed there was some version of this situation where I wouldn’t explode in fury.

“Explain?” I hissed, my voice