~Hermes~
Fuck.
I leave the restroom after that bastard goes out. I didn’t do anything. I didn’t want to do anything.
For a moment, I wanted to smash his head on the sink, but then I remember—
It’s not my f*****g problem.
I don’t own June.
I don’t.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache already clawing through. I need a drink. I need the party to be over.
"Mr. Grande." Paul stops me midway to the drink section. Wrong f*****g timing.
My jaw ticks. "What is it?"
Paul beams like a drunk i***t. "It’s time for the special dance," he says.
My brows shoot up. "What special dance?"
"Sir, your father always held a waltz at every gala. It’s tradition."
I scoff, sharp and humorless. "Then let’s drop that." I move to brush past, but he blocks me again.
"I’m sorry, Boss, but thi
