On the way, I forced myself to check the feed again.
Empty liquor bottles littered the floor. The relatives were pouring yet another round for Isaac.
"Isaac, you need to tighten the leash," an older man slurred. "Look at the time. A good wife should be home by now."
"Yeah, that won't fly," someone agreed. "Back in our village, no woman would dare stay out this late with guests in the house. She doesn't even know how to entertain properly."
"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.