Clouds of burned leaves swirled before a painting of a golden-haired woman with sun-kissed skin and a sunshine smile in a white flowing dress.
The Greek God stood before the painting of his dead wife.
With his panther’s gaze fixed on those round eyes, delicate button nose, and lips as red as rose, Claude rounded his lips at the blunt end of the cigar. He sucked on it like a seasoned smoker and puffed out thicker clouds to the picture.
That son of a b*tch’s words had been looping in his mind like the rage ranting of a mad man. That sickening voice blaring in his ears, stamping inside his head like a rogue elephant…
For weeks.
His grey eyes darkened with boiling rage. An angry vein emerged at the side of his forehead. His jaw tightened like rubber stretched to its breaking point.
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