The sudden knock on the tinted glass jerked Nathan back to life. His fingers were still trembling on the steering wheel, his breath coming in ragged bursts. His mind replayed the video he had just watched — Jennifer, his wife, kissing another man like a lovesick teenager, her hands wrapped around his neck, her face glowing with affection. He turned sharply toward the glass, and there stood Marcel, panting, sweating, his shirt half-untucked, eyes wide with worry. Nathan pressed a button and the window slid down halfway. “Boss, have you seen it?” Marcel blurted out, almost gasping. “The news? The videos?!” Nathan didn’t speak. His face was hard, veins showing clearly on his forehead. He didn’t need to answer, the phone still glowed on the dashboard, showing the paused video. Without saying a word, Nathan picked it up and turned the screen toward him. Marcel flinched. “Oh, God,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead. Nathan turned the phone back, then slowly raised the window
Read more