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It was Krystal’s number.

Then why the hell was a man picking up?

He brought the phone back to his ear.

“Come on, man. Speak up, I’m busy,” the guy grumbled.

Then, in the background, Lorenzo heard a voice he knew too well.

“Darren, how’s this dress for tonight?”

Krystal.

Lorenzo’s jaw tightened. Every muscle in his body tensed. The man—Darren—responded, “Looks gorgeous, honey.”

That was it.

Lorenzo’s fist clenched, his lungs locked, and a rage twisted deep inside his chest. He felt like the ground had just tilted under him.

He yanked the phone down and slammed the screen with his thumb again and again like that would erase what he just heard. His chest was heaving as rage pounded through him.

He stood up fast, pacing across the floor like a caged animal, anger boiling over. “You just left me a few fucking weeks ago, and you already brought another man into your house?!”

Running a frustrated hand through his hair, he let out a sharp breath, fury clouding every corner of his mind.

***

Darren, Damion, and Krystal walked into a lavish casino. It was packed with rich players, flashing lights, and the hum of games all around. Gambling tables glittered under chandeliers. Waiters floated by with trays of drinks.

Both men wore casual suits, while Krystal was dressed in a short, chocolate-brown cocktail dress with soft cutouts at the waist that teased a glimpse of skin. The small sleeves slipped off her shoulders, framing her like art.

Her hair was tied in a high bun with loose strands framing her face, and she wore high-heeled sandals that made her legs look endless.

Darren glanced over and gave her a slow, appreciative once-over. “If your ex saw you tonight, he’d drop dead from regret.”

Krystal rolled her eyes and muttered, “Don’t ruin my night by mentioning him.”

Damion chuckled and nodded. “Tonight’s about fun—not exes.”

The three of them headed toward the VIP table reserved for them, laughter and music welcoming them in.

***

Lorenzo sat in the private lounge area of the high-end casino, twirling his phone between his fingers. A table full of drinks sat in front of him, but he hadn’t even finished one. His eyes stared blankly at the untouched drink in front of him.

The business meeting had wrapped up an hour ago, but he hadn’t paid attention to a word they’d said. His mind kept drifting back to that call—Krystal’s voice. That man’s voice calling her ‘Honey’.

Every second he thought about it, his anger boiled hotter.

Michael slid into the seat beside him, casting a glance at Lorenzo, who was dialing Krystal’s number for the fifth time in just half an hour. Once again, the call didn’t go through.

That damn woman had blocked him again!

Lorenzo's jaw clenched as he slammed the phone down on the table.

He cursed under his breath.

“I should’ve dropped her off myself,” he muttered, frustration simmering under his breath. “Should’ve picked her up when we met. At least then I’d know where the hell she lives.”