Archer’s POV (An Hour Ago) The clock ticked past midnight, each second dragging like claws across my skin. I sat in the dimly lit lounge, the smell of whiskey thick in the air, my hand clenching the phone so tightly I thought it might shatter. Michael still hadn’t picked up. For the twentieth, no, thirtieth, time tonight, the line rang and rang, each unanswered call stoking the fire already burning low in my chest. I lowered the phone slowly, staring at the dark screen as if it had betrayed me. “Damn him,” I muttered, my voice rough, almost breaking. From across the room, Harold shifted in his usual composed way, but I caught the stiffness in his jaw. “Sir,” Harold began carefully, “you’ve been calling all night. Perhaps Mr. Michael is… preoccupied.” “Preoccupied?” I snapped, turning on him with the force of my frustration. “He was supposed to call me back tonight. He said he would go to Fernando, and he promised me an update.” Harold sighed, folding his gloved hands in
Last Updated : 2025-08-21 Read more