Sadistic
Lison frowned; he had mountains of work ahead of him, and on top of that, Emily, the idiot, was hanging around, ready to ask for more money, as if enduring a damn marriage hadn’t been enough.
...
Libia, on her part, was in the midst of an existential crisis, having conversations with herself. She reminded herself that she had spent hundreds of dollars on therapists. Her childhood after the death of her parents and brother had been hell, and now being the whore of a Brazilian mobster brought her comfort. She was definitely messed up in the head.
“I need to get out of here,” she said out loud.
That was the right thing to do; a normal person would have tried that from the start.