Elisabeth's POV
Damn him.
The curse echoed in my mind as I paced across the bedroom floor, fury and heartbreak battling for dominance in my chest. This wasn't even my sanctuary anymore. Every silk curtain, every crystal chandelier, every piece of gleaming marble belonged to him. I yanked clothing from drawers and hangers, shoving everything into the collection of expensive luggage I'd discovered hidden in the walk-in closet.
Why had he purchased so many suitcases? Had he anticipated frequent trips together, or had he always known this day would come? Knowing Jefferson, it was probably the latter. The man orchestrated everything with surgical precision, a trait I'd once found magnetically attractive.
Now it felt suffocating.
