Spotlight: The Woman Inside by E. G. Scott
An impossible-to-put-down domestic thriller about secrets and revenge, told from the perspectives of a husband and wife who are the most perfect, and the most dangerous, match for each other
Rebecca didn’t know love was possible until she met Paul, a successful, charismatic, married man with a past as dark as her own. Their pain drew them together with an irresistible magnetism; they sensed that they were each other’s ideal (and perhaps only) match.
But twenty years later, Paul and Rebecca are drowning as the damage and secrets that ignited their love begin to consume their marriage. Paul is cheating on Rebecca, and his affair gets messy fast. His mistress is stalking them with growing audacity when Rebecca discovers Paul’s elaborate plan to build a new life without her. And though Rebecca is spiraling into an opiate addiction, it doesn’t stop her from coming up with a devious plot of her own, and this one could end absolutely everything.
What follows is an unpredictable and stylish game of cat and mouse—a shocking tale of unfaithfulness and unreliability that will keep you racing until the final twist and make you wonder how well you really know your spouse.
He flashes a million‑dollar smile before getting into his bloodred BMW. It purrs to life and the sound of pebbles crunching under tires reminds me of the first time I was brought here. The circumstances were very different. I was never meant to leave.
That night, I relied on my remaining senses since I couldn’t see where he was taking me. The tidal wind through the trees could have as easily been the ocean in the darkness, the pungent notes of pine and salt mixed together. My heart was at a standstill as I felt the car slowing and heard the rocks beneath the treads. I had no idea how my life would change once we stopped.
The friendly honk of the horn brings me back to where I’m standing, in front of the house. I wave goodbye, the three canary‑yellow carats on my finger sparkling in the afternoon sun. The car accelerates, kicking up a wave of smooth rocks. He looks back once more and winks, his handsome profile in the driver’s side becoming obscured the farther away he moves until he is no more. I expect it isn’t the last I’ll see of him.
I step over the threshold and smile as I close the world out. So much has happened to get me to this one step in my new life. I live here now.
I absorb the grandness before me. What has been built around the cold slab I lay on, barely alive that night, is a dramatic contrast to my surroundings now. The double‑sided stone fireplace ascends breathtakingly to the top of the cathedral ceiling and beyond. The many surrounding windows create a lovely prism effect on the hardwood floors. I stand in the apex of the foyer for a few minutes, breathing it all in. The open second level looks like a choir loft, and the foyer like a pulpit.
I walk through each room, slowly taking in every detail. I flash back to the last time I was here, in the dark, severely in pain, unsure of my survival. Every inch takes on new meaning now. I run my hands over carefully selected wood, stone, and granite and take my shoes off to feel the various wonderful textures under my feet.
I pass by the basement door, knowing it may be a long time until I can traverse those steps without thinking of that first climb in the darkness. But I’m thankful I’m back now, and on my terms. I’ve resolved to leave the dark pieces below, locked away. Now is the time for new beginnings.
The smell of industrial‑grade cleanser hangs in the air, any evidence of what happened here otherwise erased. I don’t care. It is a reminder of how hard I’ve fought. The house around me is silent. Peaceful. I feel a hard‑fought new emotion, calm happiness, hovering somewhere between my heart and throat.
Paul is everywhere. He is in the cherry floors below and the pine beams above. He is in the sweeping picture window that dominates the entire back of the house, looking out onto a stage of dense trees and sky. It cuts deeply that this house was not constructed for me. But it was built with love. And desperation.
I close my eyes and picture my first night here. The sound of his car idling. The darkness. Being cast aside, then found again. Another chance for everything I’ve ever wanted.
The darkest roads lead us to the light eventually.
Excerpted from The Woman Inside by E. G. Scott. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
About the Author
E. G. Scott is a pseudonym for two writers, who have been friends for over twenty-years, and have been writing plays, screenplays, and short stories separately since they were kids. They’ve collaborated on multiple projects from the beginning of their friendship, but this is their first published work together. This book came out of their shared love of thrillers and noir and wanting to collaborate on a novel for a long time. They are currently working on their next thriller.