The music in the VIP lounge was loud and fast, but Otthen couldn't hear it because he was so angry.
The man sat in the leather booth with one hand holding his whiskey glass and the other clenching his fist against the table.
After downing three drinks, the bitterness that was gnawing at him didn't go away. Cambrik was supposed to come crawling back by now.
He had left her no choice, and she had no choice.
He’d cut off her cards, erased her access to the accounts. He’d left her out in the cold with nothing but her pride to keep her company.
And still, she hadn’t come back.
Across the table, Liam and Gustavo exchanged a glance, both men leaning back in their seats, watching Otthen with wary amusement. Cynthia sat close beside him, her hand on his thigh, her smirk just barely visible
