Ignazio
I sat in my study, surrounded by the dark, rich wood paneling and the faint scent of old books.
The air was thick with the smoke of my cigar, the bitter taste lingering on my lips.
I was angry at myself, furious about my weakness. I had hurt Danica, the woman I loved, because of my own demons. The memory of her wrist, red and bruised from my grip, haunted me.
What if I wasn’t able to control myself on time?
Would I have killed her in the process?
As I puffed on my cigar, I couldn't shake the doubts that crept into my mind.
Did I deserve the happiness I had with Danica?
I thought about my dead pregnant wife, my unborn baby, and the guilt consumed me.
I had failed to protect them, and now I was putting Danica in harm's way. What if I lost her too?
The smoke swirled arou
