Chapter 212: Swear on my life
Roger glanced at his phone, his brows knitting in frustration as yet another call to Demitri went unanswered.
Earlier, when he had dropped Lucius off, he hadn’t even stepped inside the house, distracted by an urgent call from Zayne. Now, he was trying to piece together what had triggered Lucius so badly that he ended up at the bar.
"Come on, Demitri, pick up," Roger muttered under his breath, dialing once more.
The line rang briefly before it cut off again, leaving Roger staring at the blank screen. His patience wore thin, but he knew better than to disobey Lucius’s instructions to stay put.
Angering Lucius was never a wise choice, not unless he wanted to deal with the consequences—a sharp tongue at best or a fist to the jaw at worst.
Yet as the minutes ticked into an hour, Roger’s unease grew unbearable. Something wasn’t right. Against his better judgment, he decided to go inside. "What’s the worst he can do? Break my nose?" he muttered to himself as he pushed open the door to the bar.
The dimly lit space buzzed with low chatter and the clinking of glasses, but Roger’s eyes scanned past it all in search of Lucius.
He approached a few employees, asking after him, and finally got an answer: Lucius was upstairs, on the third floor.
Roger didn’t waste a second, practically sprinting up the stairs. The lounge on the third floor was quieter, the air heavy with the scent of alcohol and faint cigarette smoke.