My thoughts were endless and created an uproar in my mind. The bottle of whiskey on the table was my companion as I trod this trail of thoughts, hoping I'd come up with something.
I couldn't sleep last night. I stayed up, trying to figure out who the possible culprit was. The one who'd sold Vince off to the rogues. Who was it?
The question stretched and echoed in my mind all night. And now this morning, I was still wallowing in it. But the harder I thought about it, the more confused and troubled I was. Because it's hard to think of anyone.
Someone close…who could that be?
Close to Vince or close to me? That part I still haven't figured out.
If it was close to me, then was it my daughters, my mate, or my trusted soldiers? Was it Leonardo? Nahhhh.
Then again, if Vince meant the pe
