"I finally have no words for you, buddy," Tristan said the moment they stepped into Adam's penthouse, tossing his coat over the arm of the couch like he owned the place. "You've done a lot of dramatic things in your life—but tonight? You unlocked a new level."
Adam said nothing. He was already at the bar, pouring a generous amount of bourbon into a crystal tumbler like he was trying to drown something stronger than guilt. The glass clinked sharply against the counter as he gripped it tight, knuckles pale.
"I mean, damn, Adam," Tristan continued, voice lower now but edged with disbelief. "One second I'm parking, the next I'm stepping over Sofia's ex bleeding on the floor. You turned that guy into a cautionary tale."
Adam took the drink in one harsh swallow. He didn't flinch at the burn. He welcomed it. Needed it. Anything to shut off the scene replaying in his mind like a loop he couldn't escape.
