~Jennie’s~

“Put something elegant on, O’Neal. We’re attending the gala tonight.”

Reo doesn’t wait for her to turn around. He just says it, like it's some mandatory protocol; like it’s not a living, breathing woman he's speaking to. Jennie stands by the window, her back to him, shoulders drawn. The light pours in through the glass, softening the dark circles under her eyes, but it doesn’t erase them.

She doesn’t respond.

So he adds, flatly, “The board needs to see us. You represent family stability. Your presence... matters.”

Jennie turns. And it’s slow. The kind of slow that’s dangerous. Her eyes are tired, raw, and so hollow they feel like...