ARTHUR
The bar was dim, the kind of place where people came to forget who they were supposed to be.
My mind is disoriented. I need a plan fast or I'll be running at a loss.
Stella seems to be under James' control, and I need her on my side to control James. I hit my hands on the table in frustration .
I hadn’t planned to stay long. Just a drink. Something strong enough to quiet my head.
I’d barely taken my first sip when a familiar perfume cut through the smoke.
Zina.
She slid onto the stool beside me like she still belonged there.
“Arthur,” she said softly, too softly. “Can we talk?”
I didn’t look at her.
“I’m busy.”
She swallowed. “I know you’re angry. I deserve that. But I wasn’t using you.”
I turned slowly, eyes cold, unimpressed.
Her fingers curled around the edge of the
