The private booth of a noisy nightclub was bathed in dim neon light. Sebastian sat in the middle of the sofa, with a scantily clad hostess on either side.
They leaned into him, their expressions oozing flattery, but he sat motionless as a statue, knocking back drink after drink.
His friends exchanged glances, then one ventured to speak up, "Sebastian, go easy on the drinks. You've been at it for a week straight—even an iron man can't handle this."
Another chipped in, patting his shoulder. "Yeah, man. The plan might've fallen through, but I heard Margaret already asked to get back together with you. All those years of hard work finally paid off—no need to drown your sorrows like this."
"Who said I'm sad about the plan failing?" Sebastian slammed back a shot of whiskey, his voice cold an
