The deafening, chaotic roar of the grand ballroom finally began to fade into the background, as Rick casually pushed the heavy oak doors of his top-floor executive office shut, completely isolating himself from the sycophantic crowd of wealthy elites who were desperately trying to kiss his boots, because a true apex predator never lingered around buzzing insects after a flawless slaughter.
He walked lazily across the expensive imported carpet and threw himself into the massive leather chair behind his mahogany desk, as he let out a dark, highly villainous chuckle, perfectly recalling the sight of the arrogant French chef weeping on his knees while Lexi completely lost her mind and moaned like a desperate slut on international television.
