Chapter 195: | Russian Fucker

𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐘

I kept my gaze on the yacht in the distance, my shoulders squared and jaw clenched. One thing my father had taught me was to never show fear. Assholes like Zoloft fed on it. It only made them stronger, giving them more power.

The boat came to a stop next to the dock connected to the yacht. When I read the name on the side of the yacht, I almost snorted. Master Z. Fucking original. Son of a bitch probably had one of these babies anchored at every goddamn port.