The air in the master bedroom was thick and toxic, mirroring the storm that raged between Amelia and Austin Sinclair. Outside, the December night was still; inside, a silent war had erupted.
Amelia stood by the tall, curtained window, her back rigid, silhouetted against the weak moonlight. Austin, the man who had been her charming, attentive husband just minutes before, was now a cold, menacing stranger.
“...you wouldn’t mind their business. I will take care of them and you won’t question me ever,” he repeated, his voice dangerously low, the words a concrete wall slammed down between them.
He had gotten out of the opulent, king-sized bed, its silk sheets now a silent witness to their fight. He walked the few steps towards the window, covering the distance that separated them with te
