Chapter 144: A Friend Who Pays
Whatever had happened on Giselle's side was none of Elias's business, and he had no interest in making it his business.
He had squeezed a fresh wave of favorability out of her, slept like a man with no conscience worth troubling, and woken up looking disgustingly well-rested. His skin had color. His head felt clear. Even the dull ache that usually lived behind his eyes seemed to have packed up for the morning and gone somewhere else to ruin another poor bastard's day.
It was still early. He was not hungry yet, so he stayed in bed with one leg crossed over the other, stretched out against the pillows with the lazy confidence of a man recovering from a successful con rather than a moral failure. The room was quiet enough that the faint hum of the climate control felt deliberate, as if even the hotel systems knew better than to disturb him.
Elias narrowed his eyes in a smile.
"Do you remember Giselle's face last night?" he asked.
[Of course.]
