The morning sun felt like a personal insult. It cut through the high-end curtains of Theo’s penthouse apartment, reflecting off the glass surfaces and the half-empty bottles littering the mahogany coffee table. The air still smelled of expensive cologne and the lingering after-effects of whatever they had been drinking the night before, but the atmosphere was electric.
Jax was pacing the length of the living room, his hands shoved into the pockets of his designer joggers. Theo was leaning against the kitchen island, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched me walk toward them.
"The King returns," Theo said, his voice dripping with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "You’re late, St. James. We were starting to think the Law student had finally found a way to sue you for emotional damag
