Chapter 91

Charisse handed over the pack of cigarettes she'd brought from home. "Mr. Ross, I can't roll any right now, so I brought some pre-rolled ones." Victor sat back on the sofa as Charisse leaned in and carefully lit one for him. "You're pretty straightforward, huh. Got something you want, you say it. No need to play games." Charisse chuckled. "Trying to be slick in front of you would be asking for trouble. The roads I've walked can't compare to the bridges you've crossed." Ross let out a low laugh, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Sure, she made a fair point, though it didn't stop some idiots from acting like they were clever—faces full of schemes and motives, still pretending to be deep. It was just plain annoying. "Charisse! Charisse!" came the sudden cry from inside. She bolted toward the bedroom. Elena was curled up tightly on the bed, clutching her head, shaking all over, and clearly terrified from a nightmare. Charisse quickly cradled her, gently rubbing her back. "It's okay, Elena,