chapter 38
At the private villa, morning light crept in through wide glass windows, revealing the aftermath of the night before. Half-empty bottles littered tables, clothes were thrown carelessly over chairs, and low laughter mixed with groans as people slowly woke up, gathering their things and heading home. The party had spilled over from the club straight into the villa, just like it always did—drinks, girls, noise, and chaos until dawn. Dyran had escaped it all by retreating to his room. He lay sprawled across the bed, fast asleep, one arm draped loosely over the girl beside him—one of the many he often had around. The room was quiet compared to the rest of the house, curtains drawn, air heavy with the scent of alcohol and perfume. Suddenly, his phone rang. The sharp sound cut through his sle
- Writer
