His POV-
I returned back to the place where I grew up, the darkest days of my life still hung in the air like dust. Every wall here screams. Screams of crying, growling, beating of my father. Every sunday a maid came here cleaning the place but I didn't come until the thoughts came. The forbidden one, the killing intends. I could have killed that man for looking at my girl, but I left him– I left him consumed by the ache of looking at who would never be his.
I grabbed a bottle of bourbon from my private bar, and went to the basement, a place of my private escape. Above the world it wore a mask of power and wealth. Below, the truth lingered the hidden, twisted fantasies I found in my 20s, the darkest one that was being discovered after my father’s death.
The stairs creaked, leading me
