Sean Quinn finished his meeting and sat blankly for a long while. Right now, that girl was in his bed. He could rightfully have her—if he wanted to. But he couldn't.
Forcing himself on her was the behavior of a scoundrel.
He wouldn't stoop so low.
In his eyes, she was a treasure, not an object to be casually profaned.
It was already midnight. He normally went to bed at 12:00 AM sharp and woke up at 6:00 AM sharp for a morning run. His routine had always been disciplined.
He wanted to take a shower, so he walked to the master bedroom. His hand was already on the doorknob, but he didn't go in. Instead, he went back downstairs to the guest bathroom. Fortunately, he had a walk-in closet downstairs as well.
After showering, he went straight to the rooftop terrace. He sat on the rocking chair, facing the pitch-black night sky, and lit a cigarette. He took several long drags, as if this were the only way to suppress the restlessness stirring within him.
