When the door to the old penthouse opened, the sharp smell of alcohol still lingered in the air.
I walked in with my lawyer and placed the agreement relinquishing my share of the property onto the coffee table.
The bedroom door opened. Lucian stood there. His shirt was wrinkled. His eyes were bloodshot. Stubble covered his jaw, and his face was so pale he looked like a ghost. The once untouchable king of the Lawson Group now looked like a gambler who had lost every last chip.
The moment he saw me, his eyes lit up instantly, as if he had grabbed hold of his final lifeline.
He staggered toward me and tried to grab my hand, his voice shaking uncontrollably. "You finally came to see me. You and Declan were just putting on a show, right? You were only angry because I gave the script to Rene
