Charles stepped out of the restaurant, his jaw clenched and a deep frown etched onto his face.
Earlier that morning, Augustine's mother had shown up unannounced, her presence as unwelcome as the cheque she slid across the table.
With a cold, practiced smile, she had told him—again—to "consider leaving Augustine."
As if he were some disposable nuisance.
By now, Charles saw Augustine's mother's behavior as nothing more than a daily routine.
He no longer felt a shred of fear when she approached him.
In fact, before Mrs. Wales even parted her lips, Charles already knew exactly what she was going to say.
The same threats. The same bribes. The same desperate attempt to make him disappear.
'It's always the same old shit!' Charles seethed through clenched teeth, his gaze drifting to the star-studded night sky, where a half-moon hung like a silent observer to his frustration.
