"You should rest in my room," he said gently. "Just for a while. It will help you sober up."
Jian Rui hesitated, his pride resisting the suggestion. But the pressure in his temples was mounting, and Carmine's voice was soft, persuasive. Eventually, he nodded.
The elevator ride was quiet. Jian Rui leaned against the mirrored wall, rubbing his temples, his breath shallow. Carmine stood beside him, one hand lightly supporting his arm, nerves coiled tight beneath his calm exterior. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him.
When they reached the designated floor, Carmine helped Jian Rui walk toward the suite. The hallway was silent and pristine. Every room on this level had been booked under Carmine's name, his guards stationed in the hallway. He opened the door to the suite, ushering Jian Rui inside.
