Jack's POV
The music in the nightclub thumped around me, but it only made my restlessness worse. The VIP lounge buzzed with energy-teammates laughing, women circling like moths to a flame-but I couldn't focus on any of it. I swirled the whiskey in my glass, staring blankly at the ice melting slowly inside it.
I should have felt satisfied after throwing Rose out. It should've been a moment of triumph, a reminder that she didn't hold power over me anymore. But instead, I felt... off.
Her face, the flash of hurt in her eyes as she was escorted out, kept playing in my mind.
Damn it.
I downed the rest of my drink in one swig, the burn doing little to erase the irritation growing in my chest. Mason was chatting with some girl next to me, but I barely registered his voice.
"You good, Jack?"
