The night in Nathaniel’s mansion was quiet, the big house glowing under soft golden lights. The servants had gone to their quarters. The halls were empty. Only the sound of the wind pressing against the glass could be heard.
Inside his bedroom, Nathaniel sat at the edge of his king-sized bed, his shirt halfway open. His mind was full, heavy with things he did not speak about. He poured himself a drink and took a slow sip, his eyes staring at nothing.
The door creaked open. Cassandra walked in. She wore a silk robe, her hair flowing down, her lips painted deep red. She moved like she owned the place, her heels clicking softly on the marble floor.
“You’re drinking again,” she said with a playful smile, walking closer.
Nathaniel glanced at her and then looked back at his glass. “I
