The living space in the penthouse was dimly lit by a reading lamp on the side stool.
Tony Torredo sat in a single arm chair, staring into the open space and lost in his thoughts. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone. His phones, half-filled bottle of whiskey and an empty, used glass cup were on the center table.
The elevator to the penthouse chimed loudly announcing the arrival of Emily.
As she stepped onto the foyer, Tony was already out of his chair and stomping to her.
"Where have you been?" he demanded.
"It's been a while since I got fresh air," Emily said, unfazed as she walked past him to the dining. "I needed that."
He strutted to her and grabbed her tightly by the upper arm, his fingers biting into her skin.
"You may have succeeded in getting some little freedom," he spoke through clenched teeth, "but you don't dictate what happens in this house and act as you like. You don't go anywhere without the security detail ever again."
