Chapter 6 - the VACUUM OF THE ROOM
The camera snapped to an extreme close-up of Adrián’s face.
The sudden shift in power hit him with the kinetic force of a speeding train.
His dark eyes blew wide open, the whites completely exposed under the harsh light.
His thick eyebrows shot upward, breaking the perfectly manicured lines of his forehead into deep, jagged wrinkles.
His mouth dropped open.
His lower jaw hung slack, the neat beard separating to reveal his teeth.
He dragged in a massive, ragged breath.
The sound was wet and desperate, a man suddenly finding himself shoved out of an airplane without a parachute.
His chest collapsed inward.
The immaculate white knot of his tie seemed to suddenly choke him.
He staggered backward.
His heel caught the edge of the woven rug, sending him stumbling awkwardly against the heavy wooden dining table.
The silver candelabras rattled violently.
A wax candle toppled over, the small flame sputtering out against the white linen tablecloth.
He couldn't look away from her.
The anger that had fueled his entire existence, the rage that kept the ghost of Valentina alive, vanished.
It was replaced by a terrifying, hollow vacuum.
She had not fought back.
She had simply opened the door and walked out into the cold.
He clutched the edge of the mahogany table, his knuckles turning white as he tried to anchor himself to a reality that no longer existed.
The guests remained frozen, their expensive clothing suffocating them in the flickering light.
The red bruise on the woman's cheek pulsed in the warm light.
May you like
It was no longer a mark of ownership.
It was just the fading memory of a mistake.
