The Fowler residence was vibrant with her children’s presence over the weekend, but she returned to the villa in solitude. The greetings of the household staff failed to penetrate her reverie. She sequestered herself within the study.

There, the playback of the video became a relentless cycle on her laptop.

She watched Leonel's embrace with another, a haunting repetition.

She immersed herself in the imagery until a wave of revulsion overwhelmed her, and she succumbed to nausea.

Leonel exited the Fowlers’ residence marked by the evidence of a confrontation-red imprints stained his face, and a trickle of blood stained the corner of his mouth.

Despite the damage, Waylen's frustration lingered, feeling his reprimand had not been harsh enough.

As evening's shadows gathered, Leonel's phone buzzed incessantly with Anika's calls.

insistent caller ID, he dismissed the

silenced it entirely and sought solace in the smoky tendrils

at the villa under the cloak of eight o'clock. The servant's greeting

has returned. She's confined herself to the study, visibly agitated. Mr. Douglas, she might need you” With a ghostly pallor under the study's crystal light, Leonel

was his only answer,

shrouded in darkness, saturated with the tang

an eerie glow, while discarded photographs lay

the audible

Leonel at the sight, his

seeming to pause before her

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