Zane Thorne smashed everything breakable in the house.
The floor was littered with shattered items, and Zane sat among them. His head hung low, with his left leg bent and hand resting on it, his fingertips bleeding.
His entire being was shrouded in a gloomy rage.
Natalie Vaughn's heart trembled at the sight. She hurriedly knelt in front of Zane and reached out to inspect his hand carefully.
"What's wrong?"
Natalie's voice trembled slightly; she had never seen Zane like this before.
Harsh, desolate, and endlessly forlorn.
Upon hearing Natalie's voice, Zane's fingertips twitched, and he grasped her hand with great restraint.
"Nina, let me be alone for a while, please."
Understanding the effort Zane took to suppress his emotions and speak gently, Natalie's nose stung, and silent tears began to fall.
She nodded frantically.
"Alright, but can you let me bandage your hand first?"
The blood was pouring out.
