Chapter 90 Kings Don't Fix Toilets

• Ethan's Maserati tore through Chicago's streets like a wounded animal, engine screaming defiance at every red light. The leather seats absorbed their silence – a silence heavy with humiliation and rage.
• Forty-seven floors up, their penthouse door slammed behind them with the finality of a coffin lid. Olivia's Hermès bag hit the floor, spilling designer cosmetics like battlefield casualties.
• "This some bullshit." Ethan yanked his tie loose. "Straight bullshit. The whole city watching me get played like some corner store mark. The Kings, the press, everybody."