Michael had came from from a business trip in Florida a week before. He loved traveling, he took any and every excuse to get away from his household. He barely had to lift a finger and he would make so much money. He didn't work for anything he got, he just had to sign a few papers and cash always came flying in.

He had only cake hone for Marvin, his fourteen-year-old son's, birthday. He did the bare minimum, just saying 'happy birthday' to him and then giving him his presents to shut the boy up.

Michael was in his office. Marvin had thrown a tantrum over breakfast and had shot an unloaded gun at one of the maids, and ash had gotten all over the kitchen floor. And Anne, his wife, was seething. Anne didn't work, he paid for everything for the two of them.

He spoiled his wife so much, he constantly bought her gorgeous m, sparkly dresses and flashy, expensive jewelry. Despite him treating her like an accessory and arm candy in public, he did really love her. Alot.

Michael didn't want to deal with his sobs temper tantrum, so he had locked himself up in his office, as he always did whenever he couldn't be bothered to deal with anyone.

The house was busy with maids who were cleaning the house and you could hear some of them trying (and failing) to calm Marvin down in his bedroom. When his wife knocked on his office door, he put out his cigarette and placed it on the ash tray before clearing his throat. The room was full of blacks, red velvets and dark browns. There was many pictures of Michael and Anne during their wedding day, it was the best day of his life, as he put it.

Michael crossed his legs, leaning back in his armchair and shifting his gaze from the many stacks of paper documents to the door. "Come in, Anne." he said, watching her walk in and shut the door behind him. "What's the matter? You only come in here if you want something from me." he said, his tone sweet but still sprinkled with bitterness.