She hadn’t done anything wrong; she was merely doing what was best for herself, ready to follow through no matter the cost—even if it meant selling her soul to the devil.
Carla’s hands shook with rage as she hurled a vase against the wall, watching it shatter into a thousand pieces. The sound was oddly satisfying, but not enough. She grabbed another object—one of the ridiculous but expensive gifts Hunter had bought for her. She had pretended to like it, even though she didn’t. With a scream, she flung it across the room, her breath ragged and chest heaving as she watched it shatter alongside the vase. She threw things one after another; pillows flew across the room, clothes followed, and other objects landed in a messy heap on the floor. All the while screaming like a banshee, and soon th
