Smith's POV.

I left the house this morning with Petunia’s tears still clinging to my memory like they were tattooed behind my eyes. She hadn’t said a single word. Not even a whisper. Just sat there on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor like she couldn’t even look at me.

I hated that.

God, I hated seeing her cry. Especially when I was the one who made her do it.

The drive to the office had been quiet. No music. No calls. Just me and the noise in my head. I walked into Hart Enterprise with a stiff jaw and a headache already forming behind my temples....