Robert’s POV

The apartment was small, barely furnished, but it was better than that filthy warehouse.

I sat on the couch, staring at the wad of cash Sergei had thrown at me before I walked out of his club, the weight of betrayal pressing down on my chest.

Lola was gone—sold off like a damn pawn in a game I wasn’t winning.

But it wasn’t my fault.

It was Aliana’s.

She did this. She ruined everything.

I grabbed the glass of whiskey from the table and took a long sip, the alcohol burning down my throat. The rage inside me had been simmering for weeks, but now?

Now, it was...