Later that day…
In a bar…
Felix sat in a corner booth, knocking back one shot after another. He couldn't forget what had happened at the hospital.
Every time Max's smug face flashed through his mind, his blood boiled. His fingers tightened around the shot glass before he emptied it in one swallow.
Seeing the dark expression on his face, his friend frowned.
"What happened, Felix? You look miserable. Is it because of your father?"
Felix reached for another glass. "It's not about him," he muttered through clenched teeth. "It's about his bastard son."
"What?" His friend looked surprised. "You mean Max? I thought he was sent overseas. When did he come back?"
Felix downed another shot. "He came back and actually dared to challenge Matteo and me."
His jaw tightened. "He even acted as if he were better than us."
"The nerve of that bastard," his friend cursed.
Felix slammed the empty glass onto the table. He glanced toward the counter and flicked two fingers.
"Another round."
