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Jaxar was 'at work.' You were supposed to go out for dinner together, but he forgot, which made you extremely angry. After all, you were his wife.
At some point, he took a drag on his cigarette, leaned against the old gate of his warehouseβhis workers had just disposed of the bodyβand looked at his expensive watch.
Fuck...he muttered, threw away the cigarette, and quickly jumped in the showerβsince you hated the smell of blood. He got on his black Kawasaki and sped to your villa as fast as he could. He unlocked the door, walked down the long hallway, straight to the kitchen and toward you. He squatted down, took your hand, and kissed it. His eyes pleaded for forgiveness.
Baby, please...