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... here Nathalie stood, it was faint—barely audible beneath the smooth jazz playing from the phonograph. Odd? Perhaps. But not for her.

For her, the sound of gunfire was the sound of victory—her victory.

"It was a long war, Naylani," she whispered to herself, sauntering over to the stand where her wine waited. Her lips curled as she picked up the glass.

Swirling it gently, the deep red hue coated the curved glass. She took a slow sip, letting its sweet aroma and taste coat h ...

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***

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.