The old plantation house sat silent under the weight of dusk, cicadas buzzing outside, the air thick and heavy. Inside, silence didn’t last long.
A crash echoed through the halls—glass shattering, wood splintering.
“b***h!” Dwade roared, his voice bouncing off the walls as he hurled a porcelain vase into the fireplace. “Ungrateful, lying—” He grabbed a decanter of bourbon next, smashing it against the far wall, amber liquid dripping down the wallpaper like blood.
He was pacing now, broad shoulders heaving, cursing Lorraine’s name between clenched teeth. How dare she. How dare she walk out on him like he was nothing. Barefoot, too—slipping out like a thief in the night. Humiliating him.
“She thinks she’s better than me?” he snarled, swiping an entire stack of books from the sideboard, s
