"So what if she makes money? Men are the sky. The husband is the law."
Isaac let out a long, wet belch, face flushed.
"Don't worry, Uncle. I know what I'm doing." He leaned back, pleased with himself. "I heard her on the phone earlier—some client meeting. Dressed up like a whore just to go out."
He slammed his glass down. "When we're married, I'll handle the business. She can stay home, serve my mom, and raise the kids. I'll hire all you cousins to run the company. We're family. If I make it big, I won't forget you."
My nails dug into my palms, piercing skin. I focused on the pain to keep from screaming.
"Miss Swanson, we're here."
I didn't wait for him to open the door. I yanked it open and stormed toward the entrance.
The reality was worse than the video.
Muddy footprints tracked across the cream carpet and stained the sofas. My porcelain figurines lay shattered across the living room floor.
Empty snack bags and liquor bottles littered the floor. Had it not been for the familiar layout, I would have sworn I'd walked into the wrong apartment.
But a second later, a far more terrifying realization hit me.
Usually, the moment the lock clicked, Mochi would come barreling toward me, her massive tail wagging like a metronome. At over a hundred pounds, her enthusiastic greetings nearly knocked me over every single day.
Today, the apartment was filled with the raucous noise of strangers. But the one sound that mattered—Mochi's bark—was absent.
Dread pooled in my stomach. I didn't dare let the thought fully form. I rushed past the mess to the balcony.
The doghouse was empty.
I stood there, frozen, my mind struggling to process the void.
Isaac, his eyes glazed from alcohol, pointed a thick finger at me from the living room.
"What are you staring at? Can't you see we have guests? Get over here and greet your elders!" he slurred. "Honestly, woman—don't you know the basics of hospitality?"
Violet bustled over, grabbing my arm to drag me toward the dining table.
"Zoey, you're back! You must be exhausted. Hurry, wash your hands and eat," she said, her voice dripping with feigned warmth. "These are my relatives from back home. Isaac saved you the best parts—he was worried you'd be hungry."
I ripped my arm from her grip. My finger trembled as I pointed toward the empty balcony.
"Where is Mochi?"
Violet hesitated, her gaze shifting away.