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

"Hey, isn't that.?"

just then. Their leader, who looked stereotypically thuggish with a lip

thick. She was a lot less conservative compared to Winter, though

the dimly lit room, with rows of bottles in front of

she asked as she snuggled up to Frank, abandoning the thug leader

heavy, and he tilted his head in thought as he

it isn't Aria Lond, Winter's classmate." He

can skip that act when we're outside—do

do I owe the

conscious enough to tell Aria could be

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