Eleanor sat in the dark, the notebook in her hand, feeling the sting of the ultimate lkhiyana. But then, she started to laugh. It wasn’t a laugh of joy, but one of cold irony. She stood up and walked to her own private safe behind a painting in the library. She pulled out a matching envelope, identical in age to Arthur’s notebook.
Inside were bank statements and letters from a man named Julian, a former rival of Arthur’s. It turned out that while Arthur was in Zurich with Sofia, Eleanor was right there in London, spending his hard-earned money to fund Julian’s failing business and traveling with him under an assumed name. She hadn’t just cheated on Arthur; she had been helping his biggest enemy for twenty-five years.
