In the dim room, only one wall lamp was lit. Tanasha sat on the tattered sofa, puffing clouds of smoke. The smoke blurred her vision, and even Wyatt Perry, standing a few steps away, couldn't see clearly.
The confined space was suffocating, and Wyatt Perry stood by the window, breathing in the fresh air from outside.
After a long silence, Tanasha flicked the ash of her cigarette with nonchalance and sneered, "Do you want to leave here?"
"Is that even a question?" Wyatt Perry exhaled heavily and said in a deep voice, "Let me go. Money isn't an issue."
"I don't lack money."
What she lacked was someone to love.
Tanasha caught the disdain in Wyatt Perry's eyes, and she laughed at herself.
Years ago, she was also an innocent and romantic girl. Only after losing a beloved man did she become so brutal. Not only Wyatt Perry, she didn't like herself this way either.
