'How could she? All women are the same.
Wesley gulped the last liquid in the bottle slamming it against the wall. It's been ten years since he felt like this. He hadn't been this mad in years. He's eyes raged as he watched the broken bottles. He'd gone straight to his study, ordering his chauffer to get him a bottle of gin in a bucket of ice. He rarely takes gin. He needed something strong.
The door creaked open. Charlotte had fallen asleep but open her eyes. She sat up.
The demon was here. He stood at the door post, watching her for a second.
"You have to work tonight. You brought this upon yourself." Wesley said almost in a whisper, his words were slurry, he walked up to her.
"Give me your hand" he said with his hands stretched. She stared into his eyes in the darkness. Reluctantly, she stretched hers to meet his. He got hold over little hands, squeezed it, and shut his eyes.
