I ignored her and ran upstairs to the master bedroom while my heart started pounding against my ribs before I even opened the door.
When I stepped inside the room, I barely recognized the space that I had decorated with such care and precision.
Three cheap air mattresses were lying on the polished hardwood floor, and all of my designer dresses had been tossed out of the closet.
My professional suits, the ones I wore to my most important board meetings, were stuffed into large black garbage bags in the corner.
And my bed, my beautiful and expensive bed, was completely gone from the room.
I went back downstairs while trembling with a mixture of pure rage and total disbelief.
I found Trevor in the modern kitchen, pouring himself a glass of aged whiskey as if absolutely nothing was wrong with the situation.
“Where is my bed, Trevor?” I demanded as I stood in the doorway with my fists clenched at my sides.
He did not even look up at me as he took a slow sip of his drink.
“My mother thought the children would sleep much better in your large room, so we made some adjustments,” he said casually.
