"Alex Archer. Where the hell is he?"
Evelyn demanded in an authoritative cadence that brooked no refusal.
The host hesitated for a beat, but taking in the rigid, hyper-focused expression on Evelyn’s face, he quickly pointed toward the highest floor. "The private suite at the absolute end of the corridor, Madam. However, he explicitly commanded that he was not to be disturbed."
Evelyn paid no mind to the warning. She entered the elevator, her heart hammering violently against her ribs. The exact second the doors slid open, the sharp scent of alcohol and heavy tobacco smoke violently assaulted her senses.
She slowly pushed the heavy door of the private suite open.
The vision inside caused the breath to catch violently in her windpipe. The room was a catastrophic wreck; jagged shards of
