[Dante]
That woman… she was becoming more unpredictable by the day. One moment she was drunk out of her mind, the next she was calling at odd hours like I was her emergency contact—always with trouble nipping at her heels. But showing up here of her own volition? That was new.
She never came to me unless she had something to gain—or something to prove.
I figured she was coming to ‘clear the air.’ Toss out a half-hearted apology, stir up a pointless argument, maybe remind me she didn’t owe me anything. Her usual routine. I should’ve been used to it by now—but being used to Bianca never made her any less infuriating.
A soft knock pulled me from my thoughts.
I looked up. And there she was.
Her silhouette framed the doorway. She was wearing a white shirt tucked neatly beneath a dark suit
