dfather clock ch

g room. Clara was sitting on the thick rug near the coffee table,

ently shoved open. A gust of cold

erwhelming stench of cheap, sweet perfume and stale alcohol r

rom his neck and threw i

vy leather shoe slammed directly into the center of Clara's

pressing her small back against the ba

down at the ruined puzzle,

he yelled, his voice echoing off the high ceilings

blood turn

offee table and positioned her body

ting with pure hostility. "Did you have a bad day playing

r, unable to process the tone of her voice. The m

finger right at her face. "You are a useless mother. You sit in t

ed her hand and slapped his fing

d don't bring your cheap whore's perfume

took a quick step back, his eyes da

d, his voice cracking slightly with def

. "Networking doesn't leave a bright

chin and slapped his hand over his left coll

ake a second later.

in his forehead throbbed. He raised his right hand hi

tepped directly into his space. S

e Wall Street Journal will have high-definition photos of my bruised face on the

olute, terrifying certainty in her eyes. She was

, spun around, and kicked the heavy

ass shattered into a thousand jagged

o her knees and covered Clara with her own b

shard of glass off her sleeve.

sight. Sleep in

roared, spitting as he spok

perty taxes on this estate are paid by my trust fu

He turned around and stormed down the hall, slam