Ruining His Night
The pulsating music and flashing lights of the club greeted Olivia as she pushed her way through the sweaty, writhing bodies on the dance floor. Her sharp eyes scanned the crowd until she flagged down a waiter.
"I'm looking for Owen Scott," she said curtly, her tone brooking no nonsense.
The waiter pointed toward a private room at the back. Without a word of thanks, Olivia strode toward the door and shoved it open.
Her breath caught at the sight before her. Owen lounged on a plush couch, his arms wrapped around two women, their laughter mingling with the bass-heavy music. Glasses of whiskey and champagne littered the table, and the other guests in the room froze at the intrusion, their gazes snapping toward the furious woman standing in the doorway.
But Owen and his companions remained oblivious, lost in their debauchery.