The Perfect Wife Walked Away
The evening skyline spread out below us, a glittering grid of lights that went on forever.
He laughed, a short, arrogant sound, and held up the small, metal canister he’d been clutching all night like it was the nuclear launch codes. "This is it, Lily. The Holy Grail. Synth-K. Five years of trial and error, compressed into one little vial of liquid gold."
He spun the canister between his fingers. The movement was loose, reckless. A man this drunk shouldn't be holding the future of his company.