I came home early and my wife’s lover lunged out of the shadows — “Die!” he screamed, swinging a baseball bat at me again and again.
Daniel woke in a hospital bed twenty-four hours later, his body wrapped in bruises and bandages. The attending physician explained his injuries — cracked ribs, a mild concussion, deep bruising — none of them life-threatening, but all signs of a brutal, intentional assault. The police had already taken a statement while he drifted in and out of sleep, though Daniel barely remembered their voices.
What he did remember was Adrian.
And Adrian didn’t take betrayal lightly.
When Adrian entered the hospital room, his expression was carved from stone. Not angry — focused. Controlled. The kind of calm that warned of a storm forming behind the eyes. “I’ve already started,” he said simply, pulling up a chair beside the bed.
