The Fabulous Life of Mrs Ava Petrakis

The afternoon sun warmed my art studio, a sanctuary I' d built for myself, far from my chaotic family.

Life was good, my canvas humming with color, ready for final touches.

Then, the phone rang, a cold dread seizing me as Leo' s name flashed across the screen.

He demanded money, as always, his voice a familiar, entitled growl.

Our conversation was sharp, escalating quickly, ending with his chilling threat: "I'm outside your building. Come down here right now, or I'm coming up." A cold fear snaked down my spine; this was my sanctuary, not his to invade.