Trevor was hardly young, but he would die in service of Frank.

He gritted his teeth as he picked up a bottle of red wine and chugged it, but he was already flushed to his ears halfway through one.

On the other hand, Frank remained perfectly fine even as he emptied his bottle and watched as Trevor wobbled as if on the brink. "You don't have to push yourself, Trevor."

"No... Stop it, Mr. Lawrence... All that I am... is because..." Trevor mumbled unintelligibly, clearly out of the game already.

Frank shook his head in exasperation and beckoned at Trevor's bodyguard who stood by the doorway.

"Send him home," Frank said. "He's been wearing himself out worrying about me—he ought to get some proper rest."

Trevor struggled even as he was taken away, while Frank was left sitting alone and drinking away his sorrows at the spacious booth.

rows of bottles lining his table, though Frank was not using his Birthright rank abilities to nullify the alcohol's effects. In fact, he started to feel drunk under the

"Hey, isn't that.?"

Their leader, who looked stereotypically thuggish with a lip piercing, had Aria in his arms and was flirting happily

thick. She

the dimly lit room, with rows

Frank, abandoning the thug leader while deliberately pulling down her camisole to bare her pronounced

felt heavy, and he tilted his head in thought

it isn't Aria Lond, Winter's classmate." He nodded when he finally

can skip that act when we're

do I owe

he was still conscious enough to tell Aria could be more than a

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