Freddy's POV

The next morning, Freddy was in his office, absently sipping coffee, his mind drifting back to her.

He had let her go.

But he had never moved on.

Every deal he made, every gunfight he survived, every empire he expanded—none of it mattered.

Because at the end of the day, his bed was still empty.

His world was still missing something.

A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts.

Desmond stepped inside, his expression unreadable.

"Boss," he said. "Flight leaves in thirty minutes."

Freddy set his mug down, exhaling slowly.

"Yeah," he murmured. "I know."

Without another word, he stood up, grabbing his jacket.

This trip...