Dominic's POV

The wine glass glowed amber in the dim light of my study, the bourbon-spiked red blending gradually in my hand like a fuse burning in slow motion. I'd poured it too strong, but I needed it that way- needed the weight, the heat, the diversion. The lights of the city outside sparkled against the darkness like a distant, indifferent galaxy. Miles Davis crooned low from within the speakers, something slow, sax-heavy, and mellow enough to stave off the rage from rising too soon.

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