The thick smell of century-old alcohol and cigarettes pervaded the private room. Maverick’s brows knitted slightly at the sight of the table.

On the dark table were dozens of bottles of whisky, liquor, and wine, and several bottles were empty.

Indifferently, Maverick strode into the private room and sat on one of the couches elegantly, a domineering and majestic aura oozing out of him.

Burke casually arched his brows and continued to smoke the half-stick cigarette he held in his hand. He lazily glanced at Maverick. "Brother three, you disappeared again. This time and that time for that woman,” he puffed out the smoke enchantingly.

Maverick ignored Burke's statement and...