#Chapter 89: Winner’s Dance

Edwin I was still riding high on my victory over that little snot, Max, as I settled back at my seat at the bar. Carefully adjusting my mask on my face, I dusted the last remnants of a scuffle in the courtyard off of the sleeves of my jacket and ordered another scotch—to celebrate, of course. Charles, finally finding me after my little disappearing act, settled onto the seat next to me. “Where did you go?” he whispered, keeping his voice low so only I could hear. “Was that you who taught that little shit a lesson? I sneered slightly, remembering the pathetic sight of Max cowering on the ground in front of me. Sipping my freshly refilled scotch, I said, “I didn’t harm him, if it’s any consolation. Not physically, at least.” Charles quirked an eyebrow. “He looked pretty beat up when he came running back in here. Security escorted him out, accusing him of doing drugs in the bathroom.” “Good. Let them think that,” I replied with a curt nod as I adjusted