he wore a pair of oversized black sunglasses that covered half her face, hiding the dark purple b

lock at the front door. She pulled out a physical brass key and

dition thriller novels she kept in the study. They were the core insp

ped onto the marble floor of the ki

tural groan echoed th

ing there. He was hunched over, his forearms pressed hard against the cold stone counter. Both

n his forehead and dripped onto the marble. His expensive custom dres

s witnessing him in such a pathetic, vulnerable state. He gritted his teeth, visibly fighting the urge to double over again, and fiercely rejected her presence. Bartholomew refused to ask for help. He stubbornly turned his back to her, his

g hand. She looked at the sweat dripping from his chin.

t out a loud, mocking scoff. "S

Casey lifted her arm and pointed her index finger toward

. Her voice was completely monotone, devoid of any human emotion.

him again. She walked straight past the k

in in his stomach was suddenly overwhelmed by a violent, crushing

ome back, but all that came out of

roll echoed through the apartment. Riiip. The sound cut into Barth

cabinet. His hands were shaking so violently he could barely grip the plastic medicin

hit the floor. Dozens of white pill

cked up two pills from the dirty floor and shoved them into his mouth, swallowing them dry.

She was carrying a heavy cardboard box sealed with

sharpest edge of the pain had dul

spat, his voice shaking with rage. "I am sick, and y

d her head. She reached up and pulled her d

nated the massive, ugly purple

enom. "My humanity was beaten out of me in the emergen

of his lungs. He opened his mouth, but his throat s

glasses back up and

into the elevator.

red, throwing her hands in the ai

opened the Instagram app and tapped the screen

this," Pa

The picture showed a bottle of vintage Dom Pérignon cham

my hero for drinking the whole

mpagne and heavy chocolate were the exact triggers for his stomach ulcers. He

," Casey