Jimmy's POV
I lounged against the sofa cushions, a cigarette balanced between my fingers. White smoke curled upward, cutting through the mansion's midnight stillness.
"You know, lighting up in the dead of night just makes sleep that much more elusive," a familiar voice cut through the quiet.
I glanced up as Wallace approached. "Nobody invited you over."
"I'm your doctor. Checking on you comes with the territory," he said.
I didn't waste breath on a response. Instead, I lifted my glass with the same hand holding the cigarette and drained it completely.
"Got a real death wish going, don't you?" Wallace chuckled, though irritation edged his voice. "Chain-smoking and drinking like that—trying to cut your lifespan short?"
"Maybe if I drink enough, sleep will actually come," I fired back. "Your pills aren't worth shit. What other options do I have?"
