Andrew’s POV
I stepped into the club, and the air hit me like a punch to the chest—smoke, alcohol, blood, and panic.
It was a f*****g mess.
Chairs broken. Lights flickering. The floor glittered with shattered glass, and blood streaks trailed off like they were trying to tell a story I didn’t want to hear.
I stormed to the bar, catching the arm of the only person still around—some shaky bartender picking up debris.
“What happened here?” I snapped.
The guy looked up, eyes wide. “G-gangs. Two gangs started fighting—guns, chaos, people screaming. It was crazy.”
My chest tightened instantly.
Katherine.
She was here.
My hand flew to my phone.
No messages.
I called her.
Straight to voicemail.
Again.
Switched off.
“Fuck.” I cursed, kicking the nearest stool across the room. “f**k!”
