Tempting The Devil’s Son
I stepped through the heavy door of the lounge, the smell of stale whiskey instantly wrapping around me.
The music inside was a low, thumping bass that vibrated through the floorboards, matching the frantic rhythm of my heart.
I slipped inside, and walked straight to the counter in the far corner, My hands were still trembling as I rested them on the sticky table.
I looked down at my knuckles, slightly bruised and swollen from the punches I had rained down on Franca’s face.
Silence settled over me, replacing the screaming match from the mansion.
It was over. My life, my wedding, my future, all of it had turned to ash in a single night. Dario didn't love me. He had never loved me.