He was out before the engine fully died.

The doors of the club barely had time to open before he stormed through, his presence crashing into the space like a storm unleashed.

Music, lights, voices

All of it seemed to falter.

Heads turned.

The staff froze.

No one dared step in his path.

Calvin didn’t stop.

Didn’t look at anyone.

His strides were long, sharp, purposeful cutting straight through the club as if he owned every inch of it.

Because in that moment.

He might as well have.

“Sir—” someone tried to speak.

Ignored.

He reached the private corridor.

One door.

At the end.

Alvin’s office.

Without knocking.

He shoved...