#Chapter 250: Playing Stupid

Hannah Alvin’s apartment was a disaster, and not just from my guards forcing entry. Empty bottles and takeout containers littered every surface, clothes were strewn across the floor, and what looked suspiciously like drug paraphernalia sat right in the middle of the coffee table. The large windows overlooking the city below were covered in handprints and lipstick smudges, and the hot tub on the patio outside was strewn with liquor bottles and womens’ bikinis. “Clear,” one of my guards called from the kitchen. “Bedroom’s this way,” another said, gesturing down a short hallway. I could hear the faint sound of giggling and rustling sheets coming from that direction, and knew instantly that my beloved cousin was behind that door. I followed the guards, my heart pounding in my chest. As we approached the bedroom door, the sounds became more distinct—muffled laughter and the creak of bedsprings. My guard pushed the door open, revealing a scene that made my stom