The desire for vengeance
The sun had set, casting a warm orange glow through the window panes, illuminating the cozy room where Abigail sat, completely absorbed in her work. The soft rustling of papers and the occasional scribble of her pen were the only sounds that broke the silence of the evening.
When Christopher returned home, he found Abigail had buried her head in the file. Her focus was solely on the documents in front of her. She was not even aware of his presence right behind her.
Christopher stood in the doorway, watching his wife with a tender gaze, admiring her dedication and commitment to her job. His lips curled slyly as a mischievous thought emerged in his mind.
He gently put the briefcase down and approached her slowly, his footsteps quiet on the plush carpet. Without making a sound, he wrapped his arms around her, his fingers tracing the curves of her shoulders and sending a thrill down her spine.