Chapter 7

Finley stood at 6’2” and was a few inches taller than Brian. He stood in Brian’s way, blocking him from leaving.

Finley’s gaze landed on Sofia’s feeble form cradled in Brian’s arms. She was like a broken doll, twisted and contorted.

The left side of her face was tucked into Brian’s arm, and the scar on her right cheek stood out prominently, shocking him.

Brian drew a sharp breath and looked at Finley. His eyes silently asked him to step aside while his arms around Sofia were taut. He had no intention of her letting go.

“Finley, leave her alone. If we don’t send her to the hospital, what if she really dies? She and I were good friends, so just let me take her to the ER, and we can talk afterward.”

In Finley’s circle, Brian Sanchez was a man who was his equal. He was different from Boris Walter. When the Campbells had sidelined the Sanchez’s a while back, Brian’s father did nothing to help them recover. If Brian hadn’t stepped up to take the reigns, his family wouldn’t have been able to afford any luxuries at all.

Although Finley was one step ahead of him at times, Brian was still above all of their fellow businessmen.

It was rare for Brian to lower his head and plead, let alone to Finley. But as Sofia lay in his arms, Brian begged him to

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move.

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Finley’s eyes narrowed, his expression cold. Yet, he stepped aside.

Meanwhile, Meroy sent in someone to help Daisy, who was too injured and inebriated to walk, evacuate the room.

“You’re a bastard, Finley Stewart!” Daisy slurred. “You think that murdering Sofia would do you justice? She almost died in prison! What more does she owe you?”

“You literally crippled her hand, and people cut her face with a knife. She’s got nothing left! Just leave her alone! Can you do that?”

“Why are you still holding your grudge against the Campbells? Her father committed suicide, her mom’s a fucking vegetable, and her brother is missing! They’re finished!”

“Sofie literally ignored her father’s warnings when she dated you. What did she ever do to you to deserve this? You’ve lost your mind!”

“She’s drunk! Find a place to sober her up!” Sis May broke out in a cold sweat. Did that woman have a death wish? She had the audacity to yell at Mr. Finley Stewart.

Charming Bar’s two bodyguards also looked nervous. They let Daisy finish talking and wondered if tomorrow was a good day to put in their two weeks.

They dragged Daisy to a smaller room to help her recover, and Finley was left standing at the doorway to room 607.

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livid as he

and Ella sprang to their feet, ready to explain themselves, while Finley sank into the sofa, stretching out. his long legs. He leisurely lit a cigarette, bringing it

a sharp contrast. Only his deep eyes remained concealed in the darkness like black voids penetrating the light.

wine glasses scattered on the floor. He

to move.

“Take them down.”

with the camera. Beat them in the blindspots. Meroy, remember to pay the medical

elite in New York, Finley was never one to engage in conversation. His demeanor resembled that of an iceberg, with even his voice carrying a

swept through the room as everyone began to cower and plead

promise we’ll never make trouble again.”

know you cared about the

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“Mr. Stewart…Mr. Stewart…”

taken out of

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smile, his small beady eyes appearing even smaller as if they

him, Ella trembled in her attempt at a smile to please Finley

and rich enough to

dare try to seduce a man like Finley. She was too

was your establishment….” Boris forced a smile as he picked up his wine glass, but suddenly Finley swiftly kicked him in the knee.

with a loud thud. Boris quickly scrambled up to his hands and knees, his eyes vicious. Yet he froze at the sight of Finley staring him down, and

Boris‘ voice

screaming. She wouldn’t get away with what had happened in

it felt like he was taking it out on Ella and Boris.

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incurred

one had the

now it seemed like Finley was defending

her mind, and

had fallen to the ground as if he

stood up, smiling at Finley. “How do you want me to fix this, Mr. Stewart? I can give you some money for the damage and to

back? Hasn’t your company been struggling lately? Your father’s shares are dwindling, and Century’s lost 3 million. I bet in three days, your bank account will reach zero or even negative numbers.”

Old K’s advice and spent a lot of money to cover their

this was Finley’s game, and he was going to swallow Century

his knees with a grunt. “It’s all my fault. It has nothing to do with my dad

looked at him with disgust.

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