Third Person's POV
Mortimer froze on the spot.
He didn't just feel betrayed by his mate anymore—he felt like his most trusted inner circle had just blindsided him with a rusty shiv.
Without saying a word, he grabbed a bottle of vodka off the marble table, tilted his head back, and started chugging it like it was water.
"Whoa, Morty! Slow down, man, that's ninety-proof!"
Humphrey lunged forward, trying to grab the bottle. "Besides, what's the big deal? So Seraphina kept a side-piece on the low. Look at Vivian—you're basically doing the same thing with her. People in our tax bracket always have a sweetheart or two on the side. Seraphina never bitched about you bankrolling Vivian before, did she?"
The air in the booth turned to ice.
Mortimer stopped drinking.
He slowly lowered the bot
