her glass down. “This wine is bad.”

It wasn’t.

“It’s fine,” I said.

She snapped her fingers. “Go fix it.”

Mark didn’t defend me. “Just go.”

I walked away under watching eyes.

When I returned with another bottle, she sipped… then poured it onto the floor.

“Better,” she said. “Clean it.”

Chapter 3: The Breaking Point

The next morning, everything changed.

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