She Just didn't Want You Anymore

Trent arrived shortly after receiving a call from the old butler; it only took him twenty minutes to get there. The house was warm, and Trent walked in, tossing his coat to a servant as he passed. He glanced at his watch and gestured for his subordinate to hand him a cigarette.

The subordinate offered a cigarette, and after Trent placed it in his mouth, he respectfully lit it for him.

Trent squinted, took a deep drag, and the pale blue smoke rose lazily from his lips. He waved his hand through the thin smoke and pushed open the door to the reception room.

Seeing Percival sitting inside, Trent’s eyes narrowed, and he sneered, "Yo, Percival, haven’t seen you in a week. How’d you end up looking so ghostly? Looks like Eulalia's death hit you hard."

"That fire, you started it." It wasn't a question, but a confirmation.

"Are you here to find out who started the fire? Or do you want the truth? Or are you just trying to shift the blame?" Trent asked mockingly, flicking the burning cigarette a