Turning Of the Tide by Diana Sander

Chapter 145

In the Lithern Club, as the music blared, the bar’s dim lights transformed into a mesmerizing display of colors, casting an enchanting glow on the faces of the attractive crowd. The dance floor exuded an irresistible air of mystery and allure.

With the rhythm of the music, the atmosphere on the dance floor reached its crescendo. The revelers gyrated and swayed, their movements infused with an ecstatic energy that intoxicated them.

Meanwhile, in a secluded and soundproofed card room upstairs, an oasis of tranquility amidst the cacophony below, three out of the four occupants leisurely puffed on their cigarettes. At the same time, one donned a mask, lending an air of paradox.

Hackett had been having a remarkable streak of luck tonight. A mountain of chips towered before him as he sported a wicked grin. “Mr. Wilson, your luck seems to have deserted you tonight. I almost feel guilty for winning so effortlessly.”

The man continued to ignore him, his mind wandering during the card game, inevitably leading to Hackett snatching victory. Thoughts of Natalie and her cold indifference plagued him, playing on a loop in his mind like an unrelenting slideshow. He yearned to press the pause button, but his chest tightened with frustration.

Despite finding Frank’s constant stream of messages utterly disdainful, he secretly engaged in the same behavior. Day after day, he persisted in sending messages and delivering meals, desperate to make his presence felt. However, that woman showed absolutely no inclination to acknowledge him. His letters vanished into thin air as if they were dropped in the ocean’s deepest depths, generating no waves of response. It was evident that he needed to adopt a different approach which was a bold confrontation.

Unbeknownst to Hackett, Trevon was engrossed in contemplating how to win back Natalie. Ignoring him only fueled Hackett’s determination. Today, he was in a good mood, and having a loving daughter seemed to bring him tremendous luck. He had never won such substantial money from Mr. Wilson before.

With a cigarette delicately held between his fingers, Frank glanced at the visibly troubled expression on Trevon’s face. “Missing Natalie, huh?”

Trevon fixed Frank with a skeptical gaze. “Do you suddenly possess the power of mind–reading, Frank?”

As for Natalie, Hackett suppressed his inner desires, opting to keep his secrets to himself.

Just as their stomachs inconveniently growled, rumbling incessantly, a sudden string of flatulence followed suit. The other three individuals simultaneously turned their gaze toward Hackett, their disgust evident on their faces, without bothering to

conceal it

Hackett had eaten a mishmash of food that day, and due to their proximity, practically anyone who took a breath could catch a whiff of an aromatic scent.

Unable to bear the odor any longer, Frank held his breath and stood up. The stench was simply unbearable, nearly making him feel nauseated. “What the hell have you been eating?” he exclaimed, feeling as if the foul fragrance permeated his very

mouth.

Trevon extended his slender fingers to cover his mouth and nose, rising from his feet with a furrowed brow. Holding his breath, he swiftly opened a window, leaning closer to inhale the fresh air, ignoring Hackett.

Jim, donning a mask, fared relatively better than the other two who were directly assaulted by the fragrance.

buttocks, and

was beyond his control. It seemed inevitable. He hurriedly went to the restroom with one

individuals had lost all interest in the

complexion to darken with an intense scowl. Holding his breath, he swiftly exited the room, followed closely by Frank, who couldn’t bear the situation any longer. Jim was the last to leave. The space was now empty, with only Hackett left inside the

Hackett stepped out, the room had already emptied, devoid of anyone else. Being a frequent visitor to

knew exactly where they

incessantly. It seemed another urgent matter was at hand, so he hurriedly returned to the

to the repetitive back–and–forth sounds. They smoked their cigarettes, discussing matters

asked, “Mr. Wilson, should I check on Mr.

an eyebrow, casting a glance at Jim “Are you planning to deliver toilet paper? Just stay put. If he

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Chapter 145

wondered if Mr. Blackwell’s luck with money was indeed that good. He

with Mr. Blackwell. Perhaps losing money was for

screen, seeing that it was Hackett calling. A wider grin spread across his face. “Looks like he’s

forming on his lips. “Tell the manager to bring anti–diarrheal

silently thanked Trevon for not sending him to

the wall as he entered, his legs trembling. “Do you guys have any shame, leaving ine

remained unfazed, his expression calm and distant.

suppressed laugh, unable to

drained due to the effects of the chili peppers. He slumped onto the nearby couch. Frank wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Take a seat

was too exhausted, having made countless trips to the restroom at least twenty times. “Damn it, I didn’t soil

tongue. “Who knows if you

strength to flung a pillow toward Frank, but his agile hands deftly

ever composed, couldn’t help but be curious about what had caused this predicament. “What did you eat

vent his frustrations. “It’s all because of that woman, Sherri. She practically forced me

they wondered what could drive someone who steered clear

planning to become blood brothers with Miss Landor?

testament?”

a string of profanities. “Damn it, she’s just out

“So you’re willingly allowing her to mess with you? Go back and entertain Frank in

revealing the truth, displaying a facade of admiration. “Isn’t it