Time moved at a snail’s pace for Malcolm as he situated his ‘associates’ in whatever they fancied for the evening. It was pure torture having to pretend that he was unbothered by what had occurred earlier in his apartment. The facade he’d so arrogantly reflected on when riding up the elevator with the men meeting him for “business” at his apartment was utterly shattered, and it was only the fact that he was clinging to the tattered remnants of his iron will with his bare fingernails that kept him from bailing and telling them all to go f**k themselves.
As it was, when one of the men had chuckled, he clapped Malcolm on the back as they’d gotten into the limo and said, “f*****g epic meeting, Malcolm. Only a king could so beautifully remind a woman of her place. The cunt didn’t even make any
