Lana walked with reluctance. Her chest felt heavy with grief.
She didn't even bother the grip of one of her father's men on her arm as she was being dragged into his club.
She passed through the entrance without even caring what her twisted father would do to punish her or what would be taken from her this time. But her brows jumped up as her eyes fell on the state of his club.
Since it was daylight, the club was closed, but what was oddly different was the packing box outside. Men were still pouring more of those boxes on the floor. It was a ruckus of panicked movements, as if the world were about to end.
And in the dead center of them all, her father was pacing, fingers running over his phone.
"Answer the call, you bitch!" His face was etched with a deep frown, anger and worry contorting his face.
