Chapter 98: Preparing for the Volkov Banquet
As we stepped out of the club, the cold night air felt lighter—at least for me. For Gregory? Not so much.
He still looked a bit shaken from watching me break Irena without even needing to use my full strength.
I pulled out a cigarette, lighting it before turning to him with a smirk.
"Let's go buy some clothes."
Gregory blinked. "Huh?"
I took a drag and exhaled. "Your dad's organizing a party, right? It would be shameless to show up looking like some runaway hostage."
Gregory looked down at himself—his torn shirt, bloodstains, and bruises still fading from my healing. He sighed. "Tch. You have a point."
I flicked the cigarette away, stepping toward my Maserati MC20 and unlocking it with a click.
"Get in."
Gregory hesitated for a second before sighing and following.
I pulled up in front of one of the most expensive men's boutiques in the city. The kind of place that catered only to the rich, powerful, and people like me who didn't give a damn about price tags.