KANE

It was a waste of time. A fucking mistake.

I sneered, hands coiled tightly around the steering still my knuckles turned pale white

I ignored, navigating through the narrow roads of New York City, the whistling voices, the blaring horns from whatever driver had decided to lose his mind on an early morning.

I swivelled the car to the right, barely five minutes from the penthouses, away from the certain no brain Ross.

I knew this was a mistake.

Deep down, I knew Ross ...