Lovi still seated in his car, the glow of the dashboard lights reflecting off his face. His jaw was still tight, but now his eyes burned with something sharper—calculation. The name "Oliver" kept ringing in his ears like a slow, mocking echo.
He tapped the steering wheel with a single finger, over and over again. It wasn't just frustration anymore it was disappointment. He had played his cards well. He had spun the perfect narrative, stirred the tension just enough to create panic. He even let go of the money just to build pressure and demand leverage. It should have worked. Cora should have handed him that 20%. He was so close.
But now? Now everything had changed.
Cora was smart. Smarter than he expected. And worse, she wasn't alone anymore. Now someone named Oliver was in the picture, and if Lovie had learned anything in his career, it was this: anyone new in the picture meant one thing interference.
