He was once again back in that damn place. At the entrance, he found a tall, thin guy. Judging by the way he was all dressed up and his behavior, he was probably the maître d’.
“Hi! I am looking for Rhiannon King, the owner of this place. Where the hell is she?” he asked in a growling tone.
“And who wants to know that exactly?” the man arrogantly asked Paxton and placed himself in front of him.
“Well, that’s none of your f*****g business!” he exclaimed. “Where the hell is Rhiannon King?” Paxton demanded again, pushing the guy and almost entering the dining room.
The maître d’ placed a hand on his arm, trying to stop him. Paxton almost pinned the man to the wall. He looked at the man’s hand, then at his face.
“You are Gabe, right? Look, man, you have two options: you can show me exactl
