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.

dismissed the call, only

it entirely and sought solace in the smoky tendrils of

back at the villa under the cloak of

need you” With a ghostly pallor under the

only answer, prompting him

in darkness, saturated with the

casting an eerie glow, while discarded photographs

screen played a looping embrace, the audible intimacy echoing in

ran through Leonel at the sight, his voice a low

world seeming to pause before her eyes lifted

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