he wished he could look into that mind of hers. so many secrets it may hold. so many wonderful things that could unravel the fabric that rupert. he wanted to tear him apart, show the worst parts for the world to see and for him to never gain an ounce of respect again. --
-- voice, and it was as if he was a shark who had just seen a glimpse of crimson. on the strike. he placed down his folder upon his desk, steely gaze meeting hers. fire in his eyes and a curl of his mouth.
"of course not, I assumed so. it would be a bit disappointing if --
his life was certainly in shambles. crumbling down around him. he had his reasons for it all. he did not care if anyone thought he was a drunk, a liability, at least he had morals. unlike baddingham who knew nothing but revenge and making a profit. he would swim with the --
-- perhaps another reason he's here.
who the fuck is she?
a nod, lips curled into a smile, one filled with amusement. "honesty, it is then. a detour."
he did not continue in his explanation, leaving it vague for her to fill in the gaps. such as she has been doing --
rupert — a now friend.. unfortunately — made a point that they were similar. declan quite hated such a fact, for he was not a rake. and yet, the scandal did follow him. punching a priest on live television .. it isn't always a good look. now being marked as a drunk --
-- pockets, amusement upon his features. "Which one do you prefer?" Its jested lightly. In all honesty, this wasn't his initial plan.
But going back to an empty home with nothing but Gertrude and a glass of whiskey sounded more miserable than he wanted. Tag was --



