The Trophy wife revenge

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s. Only astonished eyes and clenched teeth. Malcolm was frozen, his Bible still open, and his lips parted slightly as if in the middle of a verse. But the p

d prayers. Others whispered thinly veiled accusations. There were a few who support

rah, still dressed for the conference, stirred tea in the kitchen while refusing t

s that had once dismissed her absence. Two more choir girls quietly stepped down

didn't say anything specific to anyone. He said, "We'll need to review the scope of authority." By Sunday, Deborah took her usual seat beside the pulpit, but Malcolm preached with less fire. H

rah once more opened the Manila folder that night. The evidence was damning. Multiple girls. Financial irregularities. Hotel bills paid in cash. Telephone

had only

a figure of quiet dignity with his salt-and-pepper beard and dark, steady eyes that seemed to have seen many lives. Always present, always listening, never

public. Married into a more acceptable life. However, Isaac had never truly let go of her. She looked at him like she hadn't either in the quiet moments between benedictions and broken confessions. Isaac knew things others didn't. Things whispered in the bishop's office when doors were suppos

row at sermons, and smiled kindly when children ran through the halls. But there was a man hiding behind that calm exterior, practicing a single decision: when to act and how much it would cost. It happened on a rainy Thursday evening, when the air was thick with unspoken things. Isaac had linge

aw stopped

just the bishop's daughter or Isaac's past-she was a woman playing a dangerous game. And Isaac was once more looking in from the outside. As he turned to go, she caught his attention for a split second, and her expression changed-fear, regret, recognition. She did not, however

for confessions, documents he shouldn't have, and secrets the bishop had trusted him with. He did not seek vengeance. But he

lled out a leather-bound noteb

ment ha

there was something new in his gaze. He watched the bishop with sharper focus, observed Victor

alty. Deborah, however, knew better. One night, she cornered

occasionally sends someone to bring it to light. She reached for him, not with love but desperation. "You can'

began to spread. Isaac had been seen talking to a reporter. A woman fro

mons. Deborah tried to look calm, but every time she looked at Isaac, her mask

going to stay