New Year's Eve
The chaos was palpable. Instead of a sleek yacht or a private island party, the Salazar brothers found themselves in a traffic jam leading up to the public hill, crammed into a large black SUV.
"This is humiliating," Roger complained, adjusting his silk shirt under the fur jacket. "I should be drinking champagne in a jacuzzi right now. Instead, I'm smelling exhaust fumes and desperation."
Alexander held his head, he had never been in a traffic jam like this before. Unfortunately, the terrain at Lock Hill did not allow for helicopter landing. And in order to avoid them scattering, they finally chose to use the car.
At times like this, they dismissed all staff except for Huan. So Alexander was responsible for driving at the moment. Huan repeatedly offered to drive, but the man insisted, and now he seemed to regret it.
