Cameron Pov.
I’m sitting in the corner of the room, my back to the wall, looking out at the suits and the glitter, a glass of scotch in my hand. Ice clinks against the crystal, slowly melting. I’m not planning on drinking what’s left. It’s for show along with the Bulgari cufflinks and Aubercy shoes. There’s endless entertainment on this island. Gambling and women. Street-illegal cars. I’m here for one purpose—business.





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