CHAPTER 10

Richard Henry Blakes

I stormed into my hotel suite, tugging off my tie with one hand and flinging my phone on the bed with the other hand. My frustration boiled over with every step. I just got played. Roosevelt fucking played me. I never missed it, how did this happen?

An emotion I hated deeply descended on me like a heavy blanket. Defeat. Failure. It clung to me like a suffocating cloak.

I rubbed my face, sighing deeply, before picking up my phone and walking out of the room. I needed something strong to clear my head before I lost my mind and killed someone. Reece to be precise.

I wandered down to the hotel bar, praying that a drink could calm me down. It would have no other choice anyway.

As I settled into a barstool, I took out my phone from my pocket and checked the screen, hoping to see an apology and a very detailed explanation from Reece. Instead, what I saw was a text and a missed call from Emily, intensifying my irritation.

“Just what I needed,” I muttered with annoyan