If rage could fill the air like thick smoke around a fire, eating at wet logs, then the study in Santiago’s house would have been suffocating.
Fortunately for the two occupants in the room, the only thing Santiago’s rage did was fill the air with tense silence and the distinct smell of undiluted alcohol.
It had been an hour since Santiago ordered Abaden to put the woman in the guest room she’d been using and lock the door.
Santiago spent the first half of that hour alone with half a bottle of Jack Daniels. In the second half, Lachlan had arrived, and Santiago had finished the bottle while he gave his friend an update on recent events involving Ms. Chasiah Pen.
Now, with nothing more to say, Santiago nursed his glass, not sure if he had grabbed another bottle or if he was st
